


More treat than trick

by crazynadine



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Black Panties, Boys Kissing, Deception, EMT Ian Gallagher, F/F, Family Dynamics, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Liam is gifted, M/M, Married Life, OOC use of pet names, Security Guard Mickey Milkovich, Smut, Soulmates in Every Universe, Trick or Treating, True Love, Unresolved family issues, a tiny bit of fluffiness, fixing some shit that should have been fixed a long time ago, gallavich is married!, newlyweds, temporary theft, the horrors of group halloween costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazynadine/pseuds/crazynadine
Summary: Ian and Mickey get roped into bringing Liam and Franny trick or treating. They end up with way more than candy for their efforts.
Relationships: Debbie Gallagher/Sandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 17
Kudos: 172
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	1. Treats for the tricky

**Author's Note:**

> i had hoped to have this all done by halloween, but life is a bitch. here's the first chapter anyway. i'll get the rest out as soon as possible. happy halloween, you spooky bitches. <3

October 22

“What the hell is all this shit?” 

“Why are you asking me?” 

“It’s your house, dumbass.” 

“You live here too, you idiot!” 

Mickey gaped at Ian, holding up a leather corset in one hand and a three-foot wooden crucifix in the other. He cocked an eyebrow at his husband, waiting. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? That god damn corset wouldn’t even fit me, Mick.” Ian rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “And don’t you say a god damn word about Gay Jesus, put that fucking cross back in the box you found it in.” 

The argument was interrupted by a loud clamoring down the stairs. Carl stood at the bottom of the basement stairs; eyes wide as he took in the mess. 

“What the hell is all this shit?” Carl chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk. 

“That’s what I said!” Mickey said, tossing the items in his hands aside in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. He was only in sweats and a wifebeater, and it was cold in the basement, but this issue needed to be dealt with now. He glanced around the basement again, taking in the trunks and racks of clothes. The makeup and accessories. The god damn shoes and wigs and props. “Where did this crap come from? It looks like someone bought out a fucking Broadway show.” 

“Oh no.” Ian huffed, dropping heavily onto one of the massive black steamer trunks. “The community theater.” 

“That dump down on Marshall?” Mickey replied, cocking an eyebrow. “You think this all came from over there?” 

“It’s closed for renovations.” Carl offered, picking up a pink petticoat and examining it. “Why would someone rob that place? What do we need all this shit for?” 

The three men glanced around the overflowing basement before locking eyes. “Frank.” the said in unison before barreling back up the stairs. 

Of course, Frank was nowhere to be found. He never is when someone actually wants to talk to him. They did, however, find Sandy in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading an actual paperback book. She glared at them over the novel, clearly irritated by the interruption. 

“Yes?” 

“Have you seen Frank?” Ian asked, glancing toward the living room. No one else was downstairs, and there were no empty liquor bottles anywhere. A good indication his asshole father wasn’t home. 

“Not since this morning.” Sandy replied, leaning back in her chair. “Said some crazy shit about, and I quote, the most amazing Halloween costumes ever. Whatever that means.” she rolled her eyes, picking her book back up. “Why?” 

“He robbed the community theater building. The basement is full of costumes and props.” Ian sighed. “Fucking idiot’s going to get us all arrested. Again.” 

“Costumes?” Sandy replied, eyes lighting up. She jumped up from her seat. “Debbie!” she screamed, causing all three men to wince. “Get down here! We got costumes for the party!” 

“We can’t use them.” Ian insisted. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“Why not?” Carl laughed. “It’s Halloween next week. The theater is closed until after Christmas. No one will even know. Frank’s a fucking moron, but every single one of us can find something to wear down there. I got a hot date Halloween night. Going to a club downtown. Costume party. I’m gonna find something down there.” with that, he was bounding back down the stairs excitedly. 

Ian groaned, shaking his head. “We can’t do that.” 

Mickey chuckled. Ian was so naïve sometimes. No one was going to listen to him on this one. No one ever turns down free shit. It’s just how it is around this neighborhood. 

Before Ian could go after Carl, Debbie wandered in from the living room. She walked right up to Sandy and wrapped her arms around her waist. “You called. I came.” she grinned. 

“Not yet you didn’t.” Sandy replied, licking her lips. 

“Where’s Franny?” Ian asked, glancing behind his sister but not seeing his niece. 

“She’s upstairs watching Lilo and Stitch for the millionth time. So make it quick before she starts a fire up there.” Debbie retorted, grabbing Sandy’s ass with both hands. Both women giggled. 

Mickey gagged theatrically. 

“Aye! Enough lesbian shenanigans.” Mickey spat, cringing. “We got an issue. Need to vote. Liam! Carl! Get in here. Vote!” 

Since Ian and Mickey got married, they instituted a new rule in the house. No matter what was going on. Bills that needed to be paid or renovations or repairs to be made or the various crimes and schemes that always seemed to be brewing in the house; it had to be voted on by all of the house's occupants. Majority rule. Not like when Fiona ran the house, or like when Carl turned it into a preteen bordello. One body, one vote. Otherwise, it didn’t get done. 

The new rule had stopped all of the incessant bickering, and almost all of the violence. 

Since the house was down four adults, one kid, and one baby, (thank god Lip took his kid and bitch of a baby mama and fucked off outta state. Mickey was ready to strangle the both of them.) everyone was around to vote. 

Once everyone was sitting in the living room, Ian and Mickey stood by the widow, ready to argue their positions. Sometimes Mickey feels like he’s living an episode of Law and Order, staying in the Gallagher house. What with all the arguing and impassioned speeches. He’s known and loved Ian for most of his life, but being married to him is a whole other adventure in crazy. 

“Okay. So...” Ian rubbed his hands together, shooting Mickey an annoyed look before addressing their family again. “Seems like Frank robbed the community theater. We were in the basement looking for the pumpkin carving kits....” 

“Which I found, by the way.” Carl interjected, tossing the orange plastic tools and knives on the coffee table. The old tool set clattered along the wood, the scooper falling to the carpet. “You’re welcome.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes, waving him off as he commandeered the conversation. “Shut up. So anyway, the whole basement is full of shit from Wegman’s Theater. Like, all the costumes, the props, whatever the hell else they use to put on their faggy plays.” 

“Mick, come on with the faggy.” Ian sighed. Mickey flipped him off. 

“Anyway. Carl wants to use the shit for Halloween. Ian thinks it’s stealing.” 

“It is.” Ian huffed. 

“We didn’t steal it.” Carl replied. “Frank did. All’s I’m saying is the shit’s already here. We can’t bring it back to the theater any time soon. Why not use it? It’s not like we’re gonna destroy it. We all have Halloween plans, right?” he glanced around the room, grinning smugly when everyone nodded. “Okay, now who here’s got the money for a costume?” he waited, not at all surprised when no one raised their hand. “See? It’s down there, we can’t bring it back. We need it. Easy fucking answer. We take what we want, put it back later, and then return the trunks when the theater opens. Win-win.” 

“It’s still not right.” Ian insisted. He’s really trying to change his behavior. After jail, after getting Mickey back, after finding out where Mickey really got the money for the wedding... Ian’s not too keen on destroying this new life they’re building. And he’s certainly in no fucking mood to lose his new husband back to the god damn prison system. It's just not worth it. “Besides,” he glared at Carl. “how do you suggest we get them back into the theater without getting caught?” 

Because if they do get caught, Mickey will be the one to take the heat for it. 

“Ian, it’s cool.” Mickey smiled, like he could read Ian’s mind. Hell, he probably could at this point. He laid a tattooed hand on Ian’s thigh and squeezed gently. “How about this, we use the costumes, put ‘em back downstairs when we’re done? But, instead of taking the risk returning them ourselves, we just call the cops and tell ‘em we found the shit in the basement? We report it, tell the pigs Frank was down there last? We all know he robbed the place. That way, we get our Halloween, we don’t get no heat from the cops, and Frank gets what’s coming to him.” 

“I vote with Mickey.” Debbie laughed, raising her hand, Sandy raising hers as well. “I saw a really a couple of really cool pirate wench costumes. I think they’d fit us.” Debbie continued, shooting Sandy a saucy smirk. 

“Arg!” Sandy crowed, jabbing her fingers into Debbie’s sides. Debbie shrieked with laughter, trying to wriggle away. “You got any buried treasure in there, baby?” 

“Keep it in your pants, Milkovich.” Mickey barked, wagging a finger at his cousin. 

“Whoever thought you’d be the buzzkill in the family.” Sandy sighed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I want a free costume. I vote yes.” 

“I vote no.” Ian argued. “We aren’t even sure if we’re going to the club, Mick. You said you weren't sure you wanted to go out.” 

“Eh, free costume, half priced drinks. You in tights. What’s to complain about?” Mickey grinned, eyeing his husband with a little grin. 

“Who said anything about tights?” Ian balked. Mickey just waggled his eyebrows. 

This was probably very bad for Ian. 

“So, is that a yes?” Carl asked, glancing around the room. 

“What about Liam?” Ian asked. 

“What about Liam what?” Liam countered, waltzing in from the kitchen at that exact moment. 

Before Ian could explain the situation, Carl jumped in. “Free Halloween costume, you in?” 

“Free? Duh, of course I'm in. Where they at?” 

Ian huffed out an aggravated breath, clearly, he’s outnumbered. “Fine, whatever. But no tights.” 

Mickey just chuckled, knocking their shoulders together. 

“C’mon then, let’s go look.” Sandy said, jumping up off the chair she and Debbie had been sharing. “If I need to go to the store for make up or whatever, I wanna have time.” 

“You’re buying that make up. With money.” Ian called after her as she and Debbie made for the basement. Sandy grinned ferally at him over her shoulder. 

“Hey Mick, tell your wife to get off my dick.” with that, she grabbed Debbie’s hand and dragged her downstairs. Liam and Carl giggled as they dodged Ian and Mickey to follow the girls. 

“Ugh.” Ian huffed, shaking his head. “Your cousin is such a bitch sometimes.” 

Mickey chuckled, pinching Ian’s chin with two fingers. “She’s your cousin too now.” he kissed Ian softly on the lips. “C’mon. Tights.” 

“No tights.” Ian groaned, allowing his husband to drag him to the basement. 

*** 

The basement had been chaos. All the Gallaghers and Milkovichs rummaging through the boxes and trunks, flipping through the racks of clothes, trying on jewelry and shoes. It took the better part of an hour for everyone to find something to wear to their respective engagements. 

The entire place was trashed by the end of it, but Ian’s already decided that was a problem for another day. 

Carl went with a wild west sheriff get up from when the theater did ‘The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.’ Apparently, his date was going as a chorus girl? Mickey had no idea what that was, but whatever. 

Liam said he was going trick or treating with a friend from his new scholarship school on the north side. They were going as characters from Wizard of Oz. Liam found a pretty sweet scarecrow costume in one of the trunks, fist pumping with glee as he laid out the costume on his lap. It was covered in actual straw, and Mickey was itchy all over just looking at it. 

Debbie fishes out the matching pirate wench costumes, tossing one to Sandy as she eyes the one in her hand. Sandy is standing in front of a broken mirror, modeling her own getup, plastered to her front. These ones are from a show hilariously titled ‘This Play is about Pirates.’ The dresses are black and gold, with metallic laces up the corset and gold lame underskirts. They are tight and revealing and Mickey doesn’t want to think of his sister-in-law or his cousin decked out in these twin slutty outfits. But it’s not his call, and he begrudgingly admits to himself they’ll probably both look pretty damn good. 

Gross. 

Debbie is twisting Franny into the cutest little Wendy costume from ‘Peter Pan.’ 

Mickey is standing next to Debbie by the open trunk labeled ‘Peter Pan’. He’s pulling out pieces faster than Ian can keep up with, tossing them over his shoulder and onto a broken couch they never threw away. Ian grows more confused the longer he watches his husband digging through the trunk. He watches Mickey pull out a long black coat and some short pants. A pointed hat. Something that looks suspiciously like tights. A white pair and a green pair. Ian wanders over, nervous already. Mickey throws a metal replica sword on the ground by his feet. A huge pair of green ballet flats. A shredded green...dress? With a brown belt interweaved with fake foliage. Finally, he pulls out a little green three-point cap, with a little red plume of a feather sticking out the side. He turns toward Ian with the most devious smile on his face, depositing the hat right on Ian’s head. 

Oh no. 

Fuck that. 

*** 

October 23

“I need to ask you guys a favor.” Liam says the next morning over breakfast. No one else is up yet, so it's just Debbie, Sandy and Liam in the kitchen. 

Yesterday was spent going through all the trunks, trying on outfits and messing around with props. Even after everyone had decided on a costume, they’d spent hours down there playing dress up. 

It was a nice afternoon, even if Mickey made them all promise to never speak of it again. 

For such a tough guy, Ian’s husband has some weird hang-ups. 

Everyone was all set now, costumes ready, plans made. Liam hasn’t seen the house so excited for Halloween since he was real young. 

Liam’s holiday plans are a little bit more complicated. He’s still not a hundred percent positive it’s a good idea, but it’s a favor to a friend, and he’s like fifty percent confident he won’t get his ass kicked for this little stunt. 

As a matter of fact, if it all works out, Liam thinks he’ll be a bit of a hero. 

If it goes south, Liam can outrun almost anyone. He’s a Gallagher, after all. 

“What?” Sandy replies, doing her normal morning thing of sitting around doing nothing. She’s drinking coffee out of a #1 Step Dad mug, scrolling through her phone with a bored look on her face. Debbie is sitting next to her, trying to con Franny into eating scrambled eggs. 

Liam’s niece is having none of it. 

“I kinda wanna do a thing on Halloween, and I need to pull some strings to make it happen.” Liam hedges, squirming a little in his chair. He’s got a plate of toaster waffles in front of him, along with his own cup of coffee. Gallagher kids start on the caffeine young. Liam’s been drinking it black since second grade. 

“Um, are we talking a prank? Or an actual crime?” Debbie asks, cocking an eyebrow at her brother. 

“Why are those the only two options?” Liam counters. 

“Gimme a break, kid.” Sandy chuckles. “It’s Halloween, what else is there besides pranks and misdemeanors?” 

Liam sighs. Sometimes he feels like the only actual adult in this house, and he’s not even close to eighteen yet. 

“I got a friend from school that wants me to go trick or treating with him. Up in his neighborhood on the north side. I was wondering if I could take Franny with me?” Liam tries to keep it vague. He doesn’t want to tip his hand yet. He’s afraid if he tells Debbie what’s really going on, she’ll pull the plug on the whole deal. 

But this is important. To Liam and to his friend. He has to try. 

So he has to be careful how he goes about this. 

“How is that a favor to your friend?” Debbie asks. “What does a kid your age want with my daughter?” 

Liam scoffs. Only Debbie would ever go down that road. 

“It’s not like that, you weirdo.” Liam replies, rolling his eyes. “Jesus. Listen, I wanna go trick or treating up on the north side. There’s a gated community up there, Gable Estates, that gives out amazing shit. Full size candy bars, goody bags. Hell, I heard one house gives out honest to goodness gift cards. My friend lives there. And I can go, but I gotta bring Fran.” 

Sandy puts her phone down, turning toward Liam with a scowl on her face. “Gable Estates? Who’s this friend?” 

*** 

Liam wasn’t sure he’d be able to get Debbie and Sandy on board, but after he explained his reasoning to them, they were a little more open to the idea. Of course, if it all goes horribly wrong, Liam has promised Sandy that he won’t avoid her when she brings the hammer down on him for his grievous error. 

(This has to work, not just for the sake of Liam’s limbs, but for his friend, and his family too.) 

Ugh, how does Liam always find himself in these situations? He's too damn nice. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now. 

Debbie was harder to convince. Being a single mom, she always wanted to do everything with Franny, do everything for Franny. Never wanted the kid to think she was unloved or unwanted. Never wanted her to think Debbie didn’t like spending time with her. 

Liam gets that, they all grew up in the same house. They all had Frank and Monica as parents. They all know what it’s like to be abandoned or forgotten or used. 

But once Liam weighed out the possible benefits to her, she seemed to warm up to the idea. His sister’s always been a sucker for a happy ending, after all. 

Once he finally gets Sandy and Debbie on board, Liam runs upstairs to call his friend. He’ll leave the execution of the actual plan to his sister and her girlfriend. 

October 28 

Ian is actually excited for Halloween. This’ll be the first year of his life where he’ll really be able to enjoy it. 

Life’s not perfect. It never will be. But it’s as close to perfect as it will ever get for someone like Ian Gallagher-Milkovich. 

He’s got a job he loves. He left the place he was at right after jail. That for-profit healthcare crap was for the fucking birds. Administering unnecessary drugs, writing up false procedures so they could charge the insurance more. The corruption was endless and it grated on Ian a lot. 

Not long after his wedding, he got a call from Eddie, a guy he used to work with on Rita’s rig. He’d gotten a new job at Windy City EMS, who has a contract through the city, but is still an independent company. 

Meaning the rigorous background check the city of Chicago puts it’s EMTs through would not be an issue. Ian could have kissed Eddie. He needed that job. 

Ian’s been working at Windy City EMS since then, about six months now. He loves it. He does good work, gets paid a decent wage, and his coworkers are neither crooked or crazy. It’s a dream, really. 

His husband is doing pretty damn well in the employment department too, if Ian does say so himself. It was a rocky road for Mickey too, right after prison. Not in the least due to Paula, the wackjob of a parole officer Ian had to deal with, that ended up Mickey’s problem too. Add to that the shit job he got assigned as a security guard at Old Army, and Mickey had been pissed off and stressed out for months after they got out of jail. 

Luckily, not long after Ian got his new job at Windy City, Mickey’s brother Colin called him. Well, it wasn’t all good. Colin had two pieces of news: Firstly, Iggy was back in jail for his part in a chop shop down in Cicero. He got two and a half to serve, which wasn’t a lot to a Milkovich, but it was still time in Iggy’s life he’d never get back. Mickey was disappointed, but not surprised. 

The second half of the news was arguably much better. Colin had a friend, Elroy, who was looking for ex-cons to work for his security company. They had contracts all over the city, did jobs for big events. Concerts, art shows, plays and movie premiers. Anything that had important people or priceless items. They have recurring contracts too, with clubs and bars. Elroy was never short on work, and always looking for guys to fill his roster. 

Elroy was an ex-con himself, and he only had three things that were deal breakers when hiring ex-cons: no gun charges, no sex crimes, and no arson. Mickey, surprisingly enough, fit that bill. Sure, he’d been to jail countless times, on all kinds of charges. But he never got caught with a gun, and he never set a fucking fire in his life. And anyone that knows Mickey knows he’d die before he forced himself on anyone, seeing how his son came into the world. 

So Elroy, the owner of Shut Tite Security, was happy to bring Mickey on at the request of his brother. And sometimes, the hours are terrible, but so are Ian’s. There are times when they are both on nights, and there are times when they are on opposite shifts. Some weeks they barely see each other at all, never mind get around to fucking. 

It’s not ideal for newlyweds, but they are together, out of jail, working like grown ass men, and fucking happy. They’re even saving money for their own place. 

Ian wants to move to Boystown. Mickey wants to move to Ukrainian Village for the walnut cake at Panya Bakery alone. They’ve been arguing about where they want to live, what kind of apartment the want to get. 

It’s fun for Ian to bicker with Mickey about this shit. It’s mundane silliness Ian never thought he’d be afforded with his husband. 

God, his husband. It still feels surreal to say it. 

Ian’s never been happier. Excited for all the firsts they still have to enjoy as a married couple. 

Like this first Halloween. 

Ian has PLANS. He’s acquiesced to Mickey about the costumes, but he wants to plan what they do for the holiday. Ian’s been talking to Ethan, the only other queer guy at work, and he’s been telling Ian about this killer costume party down at WetBar, one of the newer gay bars in the city. It’s not in Boystown, it’s actually on the north side, but Ian likes that better anyway. Less chance of running into any of his old regulars if he stays far away from the Fairy Tale. 

Mickey has even agreed to accompany him, no arm twisting or begging. He just smiled that rueful smile of his and nodded. 

Damn, being married is great. 

So imagine Ian’s displeasure when a few days before Halloween, his sister and Sandy hit them with some utter fucking bullshit. 

It’s late. Ian had worked the day shift, but Mickey had just walked in a few minutes after midnight. He'd been at a charity auction, guarding some old cups or some shit, who knows. The point is, Ian had just finished feeding his man and was ready to haul him upstairs for some dessert when Debbie and Sandy cornered them in the living room. 

“What?” Mickey sighed, still reclined on the couch with Ian’s head in his lap. “We’re just about ready to go upstairs and....” 

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Debbie replied, grimacing. “And this will only take a minute.” 

Ian glanced up at the girls, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t bother to take his head off his husband’s thigh, but he hoped his expression would be enough to move them the fuck along. 

Ian’s about ready to jump Mickey right here if they don’t get on with it. 

“Sandy and I have a job on the thirty-first. We need the money, can’t turn it down. So....we need you to take Franny trick-or-treating.” 

“Huh?” Ian asked, moving to sit up. Mickey grumbled, rolling his eyes, but sitting up next to his husband anyway. 

Debbie glanced at Sandy before turning back to the boys. “Well, remember when Fiona used to do ‘beer and wings’ night down at the Goal Post?” 

Ian balked, eyebrows up, mouth dropping open. “When she used to dress like a stripper and come home with singles shoved down her booty shorts?” 

Mickey snorted, knocking his head against Ian’s shoulder. Ian grinned down at him, wrapping his arm around Mickey’s shoulder and pulling their bodies flush together. God, he wanted to get his man out of these layers and get his mouth on some naked skin. 

“Shut up.” Sandy snapped. “Don’t act like you never shook your twink ass for pocket change.” 

“Hey!” Mickey barked, glaring at his cousin. “Watch your fucking mouth.” 

Sandy rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth shut as Debbie took a single step forward. “Listen, it’s down at a lesbian bar we hang out at sometimes. It’s a costume party, but they need, like, cocktail waitresses. And it’s gonna be big money and we already have the costumes and it would just be great if you could take Franny and Liam up to the north side and let them trick or...” 

“Wait a god damn second.” Mickey interrupted. “So now it’s Liam AND Franny, and it’s all the way on the fucking north side. How are we even supposed to get up there?” 

“Take the car.” Sandy replied, like Mickey was an idiot for not knowing that. 

“No way.” Mickey shot back. “We don’t even know whose car that is, or where you got it from. I’m not driving a stolen car anywhere. Fuck that.” 

Sandy had just magically turned up with a 2006 Ford Taurus out of nowhere one day. She’s had it for about a month, and has never let anyone else drive it. 

“Mick, I got the car from Rand.” Sandy replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not stolen. She can't drive no more, cuz of her epilepsy.” 

“Huh?” Mickey sat up a little straighter. He hasn’t spoken to Aunt Rand in years. Not since Mandy fucked off. Rand had always been closer to Mandy than any of the boys. Looks like that extends to Sandy too. “Rand’s got epilepsy?” 

“She always has, Mick. It’s just getting worse in her old age. Her meds don’t control it as good anymore. She had a seizure in the Costco parking lot. After that, she’s scared to drive. So she gave me the car.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” 

Sandy had the audacity to laugh. “Well, if you thought it was stolen, you wouldn’t ask me to borrow it.” 

“You’re such a bitch.” Mickey growled, but he had to give it to her, she had a good point there. 

“So anyway!” Debbie interrupted, trying to get them back on track. “Take the car. Take the kids up to the north side. Liam has a friend up there, he’s gonna show Liam where to get the best candy. It won’t take more than a coupla hours, and it would be a real favor. We’ll both owe you.” 

“You sure as hell are gonna owe us.” Mickey replied, frowning. “We had plans.” 

Ian sighed. They did have plans. Plans that Ian had really been looking forward to. But come on, of course they were gonna do this. He glanced at his husband, biting back a smile at Mickey’s grumpy expression. 

“C’mon Mick.” Ian wheedled, smiling. He wrapped his husband up in his arms again, rocking them back and forth on the couch. “We can still dress up. Take a candy tax from the kids. Then we can come back here, celebrate our own way.” 

“Ian, man. I don’t wanna drag ass all over the north side for hours. There’s gonna be kids everywhere.” 

Sandy opened her mouth to speak, but Debbie placed a hand on her arm. Sandy’s yet to witness the power of suggestion Ian has over his husband. 

This’ll be fun. 

Ian turned fully on the couch to face Mickey. He placed his hands on Mickey’s face, smiling at him warmly. “Mick. I think this’ll be fun. When was the last time you got to go trick or treating? Did you ever get to go? Dress up and walk around, just for fun?” 

Mickey scowled, but shook his head. “No, we never got to go.” 

“Well, then, let’s think of this as making memories, huh? We’ll help out Debs and Sandy, get to spend time with Liam and Fran. Get to dress up and eat candy. Our first Halloween as married men. It’ll be awesome. Something we can look back on later and smile, huh?” 

Sandy watches with wide eyes as her cousin’s sour face melts into one of easy acceptance. His hard eyes soften, his rigid posture relaxes, the tight line of his mouth dissolves into a small, genuine smile. 

"Besides," Ian continues, "it's kinda perfect. Our costumes match up and everything." 

"So we're gonna be those matchy-matchy assholes, then?" Mickey replies, but he's still smiling.

Ian just chuckles, nodding.

“Okay, Gallagher. We’ll do it your way.” Mickey says, leaning in with a smirk on his face. 

“Gallagher-Milkovich.” Ian corrects with a smirk of his own, before closing the distance between them. Ian kisses Mickey like he hasn’t seen him in days. His hand comes up to cup his face, pulling Mickey that much closer as his tongue traces the seam of his lips. Mickey’s mouth opens on a gasp and then they’re really going at it. 

“Okay then!” Debbie says loudly, grabbing Sandy and heading back to the kitchen. “We’ll talk more when you’re not in the middle of shooting amateur porn.” 

Ian chuckled, pulling back. “Whadaysay, Mick? Wanna be a star?” 

Mickey groans, throwing his husband off him. “I’m going upstairs. Come on up if you wanna come in me, but no more corny jokes, or I'll make you watch me jerk off instead.” Mickey was off the couch and halfway up the stairs before Ian even heard what he’d said. 

Ian chuckled, scrambling after his husband. “G’night Debs, Sandy. Talk more in the morning.” 

*** 

“Jeez, that was more work than I anticipated.” Sandy complained, laying her head down on Debbie’s lap. Nightmare on Elm Street was playing on the TV. There were bowls of popcorn and candy on the coffee table. Debbie was running her fingers through Sandy’s hair as they both watched Freddy eviscerate teenagers on the flat screen. 

“I think it went well.” Debbie replied, fingers moving without thought. “And it’s not like we lied. We did have an offer to work, we just weren’t gonna take it, cuz we were going with Franny.” 

Sandy turned so she was laying on her back, glancing up at her girlfriend. “You wanna change your mind? We don’t gotta do any of this. I know Liam means well, but it’s not our job. If you wanna take your kid trick or treating, that’s your right, y’know?” 

Debbie smiled down at Sandy, nodding. “Yeah, I know. But I have taken her every year since she was born. And Liam really wants this. Not to mention I think it’ll be sweet for Ian and Mickey to spend some time with Franny alone. Ian’s so good with her, but he’s been so busy since the wedding.” 

“Mick loves kids too. Misses Yevvy a lot.” Sandy says, like it’s a normal thing to say. 

“Huh?” Debbie sounds shocked, because she is. She’s never considered Mickey a kid person, especially after his first marriage. “He never seemed to care all that much for Yevgeny.” and the moment it’s out of her mouth, Debbie regrets saying it. 

She regrets it even more when Sandy sits up and turns to glare at her. 

“Are you serious right now?” Sandy demanded. “You know what happened. I know you know how Yev was conceived. And you know Mickey did his best. It was hard at first, no shit it was, but I’ve heard stories from Iggy and Mandy about how much he cared about that kid before he got locked up. He used to tell me about Yev all the time, in every letter he sent from jail. He told me about Ian’s little road trip too, just so you know. Mickey was doing the best he could. Then that hooker took the kid and split for greener pastures. Just like your brother did, I might add. Everyone’s always going off about how Mick was such a shit dad, shit person. but it’s like every time he tried, he got the shaft, then got abandoned. And you....you know what, I’m going to bed.” Sandy disentangled herself from the blanket they were under, and stormed up the stairs. 

Debbie just sat there, shocked. She knows Yevgeny is a tender subject, and now is probably not the best time to bring it up. But Debbie didn’t mean that Mickey never cared, just that maybe he was kinda glad he didn’t have to deal with Svetlana and Yevgeny? Maybe he doesn’t hate kids, but Debbie always thought Mickey was happy when Svet took off with her son. She never had any reason to think she was wrong.

Well, clearly something's wrong, because her girlfriend is upstairs when she should be here in Debbie’s arms. 

Things between Debbie and Sandy have been strained ever since Liam came to them about Halloween.

God, this stupid stunt is gonna get them all into a world of shit. 

Jesus. Debbie turns off the TV and heads upstairs to smooth shit out with Sandy. 

Debbie’s still not sure what they are doing is right, but it’s not her fight anyway. 

October 29 

Debbie and Sandy have been out all afternoon. Their costumes are all set, but Sandy had insisted they go the extra mile. New make-up, some cheap gold costume jewelry. Big dangly earrings and a ton of bangle bracelets. They even scored a couple of head scarves. Sandy was nervous they’d crossed into ‘gypsy stereotype’ territory, but Debbie assured her they would be nothing more than hot and spicy pirate bitches. 

Girls in sexy, intricate costumes get more tips. 

And the role play later on will be hot as fuck. 

Sandy smiles to herself as she thinks about it. When she showed up at Mickey’s dad’s house all those months ago, she never once thought she’d end up here. Sure, she has always known she was queer, knew she’d end up with a girl. But never in her most bizarre fever dreams did she consider she’d end up the lesser half of a pair like this one. Debbie is batshit crazy, but she’s funny and loyal and so damn real it stings sometimes. That would be crazy enough. Sandy doesn’t get lucky like this. 

But to find a girl who just so happens to be the little sister of her favorite cousin’s husband? To share a home with not only her girl, but her family. Her family that just so happens to be Sandy’s family too. 

Sandy has always loved Mickey. More than her own brothers, who are all mean bastards. Back when they were kids, before Terry really got his hooks into Mickey, her cousin had been soft spoken and sweet. Artistic. He used to love to draw, and he’d create all kinds of inventive make-believe worlds for Sandy and him to explore on the page. 

After his mother died, Mickey changed. Became quieter, more withdrawn. Sandy knows now that he was in mourning. He was depressed. Eleven years old, with no one to help him work through his grief. It was about that time that Terry put his foot down. Dragged Mickey into the family business, and cut off most contact with the rest of the family. No more art, no more emotions, no more softness. 

Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey or his brothers in years when she showed up at their house. She didn’t know what she expected, pulling that stunt, but she’d certainly not expected what she found. 

Of course, Sandy had been kept informed of all the juicy family gossip. Rand loves to talk, and she and Mandy are still real close. So, of course, Sandy knew all about Mickey and Ian getting caught by Terry. She heard all about Svetlana, the ‘correction’, and how Yevgeny came to be. She heard about Ian’s meltdown, the kidnapping. The break up. She heard about Mickey going to jail. (which Sandy is still seething about. If she ever gets her hands on that Sammi bitch, the pigs are gonna need dental records to identify the corpse.) Sandy knows about the jailbreak, the run to the border. She knows about Ian abandoning Mick at the finish line. She knows it all, right down to Mick turning state’s evidence on a fucking Mexican drug cartel so he could babysit Ian on the inside. 

Their love story is a fucking mess. Full of pain and rejection. Loss and rage. But it’s also so full of love, full of commitment and public declarations and by the sounds of it every damn night, incredibly athletic sex. Their love is so powerful, Sandy feels like she might explode just thinking about it too long. It’s like Ian and Mickey were legit meant to be. Sandy has never seen two people so well suited for each other. And Sandy gets to witness it every day. 

Sandy gets to watch her cousin, whom she once thought would be dead by twenty-one, live a life full of love with a man he’s been gone on since high school. In this house, full of people who legitimately care about each other. 

It’s more than any Milkovich would dare to ask for. 

And now Sandy’s part of it too. 

Not that her and Debbie have anything close to what Mickey and Ian share. That takes years. Years of experiences and memories. Moments that have been amazing and gut wrenching in equal measure. 

Ian and Mickey have been through a crucible. And they made it out on the other side. Married. More in love than ever. 

It’s enough to set any lesbian’s cold, dead heart beating again. 

Sandy’s not crazy enough to assume she’ll ever find what her cousin did with Ian. But watching their love unfold in real time makes her want to try. 

Case in point: what they just walked into. Arms laden with bags from Target and Dollar Mart, Sandy leads Debbie through the living room, dining room, and towards the kitchen. They can hear voices before they see anyone. Ian, Mickey and Franny, it sounds like. 

What Sandy sees when she enters the kitchen just proves to her how right she is. How in love her cousin and his husband are. How much Mickey loves kids. 

Sandy’s still smarting from that comment Debbie made last night about Mick not giving a shit about Yev. Things have been tense between them all day. 

She shoots a look at her girlfriend when Debbie enters the kitchen. If eyebrows can say ‘I told you so.’, Sandy’s are doing it now. 

“What’s all this?” Debbie asks, dropping her bags on the counter. 

“We’re making Jack-o-lanterns!” Franny squeals happily from her perch on one of the kitchen chairs. Mickey is standing behind her, arms around her as he carefully shows her how to carve out the eyes and the mouth. 

Ian is off to the side, scooping guts out of another pumpkin. He’s up to his elbows in orange slime and has a glass bowl of pumpkin seeds next to him. 

“Hey guys.” Ian smiles, slapping his spoon against the table. The wood surface is covered in newspaper, and there is an ever-growing pile of pumpkin innards right between the two pumpkins. “How was shopping, did you find everything you needed?” 

Debbie is still staring at Mickey and her daughter. Mouth open in shock. Sandy wonders if Debbie is thinking about it too. Their argument last night. How Debbie had said Mickey didn’t like kids, didn’t care about his son. How she had doubled down this morning, insisting Mickey wasn’t good with kids in general. 

Now, watching Mickey and Franny carving pumpkins, it’s like Debbie is finally seeing Mickey for the first time. 

“Yeah, we did.” Sandy replies, since Debbie’s still not speaking. “We’re just gonna go put these bags in our room. You guys okay down here for a bit longer?” 

“We’re good.” Mickey answers, not even bothering to look up. He’s got one of Franny’s hands in his, both holding the small orange knife. He’s guiding her hand very carefully, with a small smile on his face. “Aren’t we, Wendy?” 

Franny giggles, wiggling a bit in Mickey’s hold. Ian is watching them with the mooniest expression on his face. Sandy chuckles. 

“Sure are, Hook!” Franny places the knife on the table and picks up one of the votive candles. The carving seems complete. She turns to Ian with the small white candle. “Can we light it now, Uncle Ian?” 

“Only if you call me Peter Pan.” Ian replies, waggling his eyebrows. 

Franny giggles again. Mickey helps her sit back down so he and Ian can light the candles and put the tops back on. Ian flicks the lights off and Sandy watches as the cored-out gourds come to life in front of her. 

Ian’s pumpkin has been carved as Frankenstein’s Monster. It’s detailed and artistic. 

Mickey and Franny have a Hello Kitty pumpkin. It's not as crisp. There are some missing pieces and one of her ears is lopsided, but Franny looks so proud. 

So does Mickey. 

Sandy smiles so hard her face hurts. “Looks good, guys. Now clean up your damn mess.” with that she turns up the stairs, Debbie trailing behind her. They can hear the boys and Franny chatting away about toasting the pumpkin seeds, laughing and teasing each other until they are out of earshot. 

Debbie closes the door behind herself and sits down on the bed next to Sandy. Sandy takes her hand, turning to her with a smug smile on her face. 

“What was that you said about Mick not liking kids?” 

“Shut up.” 

*** 

October 31 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Ian groaned, glancing at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of their closet door. He takes in the green tights, the pointed hat, the fucking dress (because that’s what it is. A dress. Let's get real.) He even has little brown shoes with tiny heels on them, with brass buckles. The entire ensemble is covered in vines and silk leaves. With his red hair and his damn freckles, he really does look like Peter Pan. (if he grew ten years and 30 pounds of muscle) 

“Ey, when do we ever get to play dress up?” Mickey called from the hallway. He’d gone to get dressed in the bathroom, for some reason. 

“If you wanna play dress up, I can think of better outfits than these, Mick.” Ian chuckled, his mind automatically going to Mickey in all manner of lace and leather. His husband had an ass that deserved to be draped in fucking diamonds as far as Ian’s concerned. 

“You’re hilarious.” Mickey chuckled, wandering into the bedroom. Ian’s mouth dropped open the moment he laid eyes on him. Mickey looked fucking incredible. The Captain Hook costume look like it’d been tailor made for him. The white puffy shirt (like that one episode of Seinfeld) was open to mid-chest, exposing the sparse dark hair spattering along Mickey’s pectorals. Over the shirt was the ubiquitous long red jacket. Gold piping down the seams and gold coin buttons really set the tone. The jacket had a wide black collar that drew attention to the pale column of Mickey’s neck, the stark contrast of his dark hair. Ian’s eyes drank in his husband’s form. God, he was gorgeous. Ian licked his lips as he dragged his eyes down from Mickey’s knee length jacket to the black pleather pants he was wearing, ending in knee-high black boots with another set of gold buckles. He had gold bracelets on his wrists and thick gold chains circling his thin neck. Hell, Ian has to adjust his junk when he notices the makeup. 

Mickey is wearing black eyeliner. It’s dark and smudged in a way that has to be purposeful. It makes his blue eyes pop in a way Ian has never seen before. 

He wants to eat Mickey whole. 

Ian takes a step toward his husband, intending to do just that when a shrill scream from downstairs derails him. 

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Mickey! Come see my dress!” 

It’s Franny, of course. 

Ian has to take a deep breath and remind himself they have plans. 

His niece is not cockblocking him. 

“You look real nice, Mick.” Ian said, stepping up to his husband. A couple seconds won’t hurt anyone. He curls his fingers around the necklace hanging around Mickey’s throat. Mickey chuckles, rolling his eyes, but goes easily. “When we get home, don’t take that makeup off.” 

“Y’like it?” Mickey grinned, licking his lips. “Thought you might.” 

“I’ll show you how much I like it in a coupla hours.” Ian replies, kissing Mickey hard. Mickey hums, opening easily. Ian licks into Mickey’s smiling mouth, content to just hold him forever. 

“UNCLE IAN!!!!” 

“We better go.” Ian sighed, reaching down to adjust his junk. 

“Better not pop a boner in that dress tonight, Gallagher.” Mickey chuckled, playing with the hem of Ian’s costume with the edge of his replica sword. 

“Shut up, Mick.” Ian grumbled, though his husband did raise a valid point. “Let’s go. Kids’re waiting.” 

*** 

“Oh my god!” Ian crows the moment they descend the stairs. “Look at you, Franny.” 

Franny looks god damn adorable in her Wendy Darling costume. She’s got the quintessential powder blue empire waist dress with the blue ribbon across her chest, a big poufy bow nestled between her shoulder blades. Her red hair is tied up in a high pony tail, with a matching blue ribbon. She’s got the sweetest little blue mary janes on her feet, with tiny black buckles. 

She looks so cute! 

Franny is blushing as Ian coos and awes all over her. Mickey just stands back, leaning on the counter as his husband goes apeshit over his niece. Ian’s so good with her, it gives Mickey a funny feeling in his chest. 

Like warmth and light and bubbles. 

It’s bullshit, but it’s there. And every time he feels it, he falls a little bit more in love with his husband. 

Mickey’s turned into the biggest softie. The funny thing is, he doesn’t hate it. When he was a kid, this kind of shit would have been his worst nightmare. Hell, even when he was married to Svetlana, this kind of easy affection and open emotion set his teeth on edge. He just couldn’t open himself up to that. He was utterly incapable of expressing his own feelings. 

Mickey suffered greatly for his emotional ineptitude. So did Ian. Hell, Mickey can even admit Svetlana got a raw deal too, and Mickey’s behavior did nothing but make it worse. Sure, he had his reasons, but looking back, he can’t help but wish he’d been able to handle it better. 

And that’s not even taking into account his son. 

Mickey shakes his head, trying to rid himself of his maudlin thoughts. He can’t do a damn thing about Yevgeny. He doesn’t even know where he is. Word around the neighborhood is that Svetlana married some geriatric fucker with millions to burn, and disappeared. Mickey will most likely never see his ex-wife or his son ever again. 

Better to focus on what he has now. Ian and his family. Mickey’s family. Iggy, Mandy and Sandy are pretty much it for Milkoviches anymore, but Mickey’s got Gallaghers to spare these days, so it pretty much evens out. 

“Hey little lady. Looking good.” Mickey smiles, wrapping an arm around Ian from behind so they can both look down at Franny. “You ready for some candy?” 

“Yes!” Franny crows, throwing both hands in the air with glee. Ian chuckles, pulling Mickey’s arms tighter around his waist. “Where’s Liam? We should get going soon. Trick or treat on the north side only last two hours.” 

Just then, Liam finally wanders downstairs. He's decked out in his scarecrow costume from the Wizard of Oz trunk. Ian actually had to alter that costume a bit, which had made him nervous. They still have to return all this shit to the theater. 

But if Ian can take the pants in two inches, the theater’s staff can let them out again. 

Debbie and Sandy are standing at the mouth of the kitchen, dressed in their matching ‘slutty pirate’ costumes. Sandy told Mickey they need to be at the Rusty Nail by six p.m. to start their shift. 

Ian pulls away from Mickey, chuckling. “Mick, go stand next to the girls.” 

“Why?” Mickey asks, already moving to obey. He pretty much does whatever Ian says these days, though he hopes no one’s noticed that but him. The twin smirks Debbie and Sandy are shooting him as he goes to stand next to them proves how futile that hope is. He glares at them. “I’m over here, now what?” 

Ian grins, pulling out his phone. “I just wanted to capture the memory of Captain Mick and his crew of swashbucklers.” 

Mickey groaned, rolling his eyes as he moved to step away. He yelped indignantly as two sets of hands pulled him back. 

“Uh uh, Mick. Stand still. You heard the man.” Sandy giggled, wrapping her arms around him. Debbie laughed, sliding up close on the other side. 

“Say bootie!” Ian crows. The girls repeat the word with wide smiles. Mickey just cocks an eyebrow and flips his husband off. 

Ian huffs but takes the photo with his own smile. It’s a good picture. They really do look like a gang of pirates. 

Ian and the girls spend the next few minutes snapping pictures. Mandy and Sandy, the pirate wenches. Ian and Mickey, Peter Pan and Captain Hook. Ian and and Mick take one with Franny as Wendy Darling. They take a few with just Liam and Franny, and a handful of group shots with the timer on. 

Ian can’t remember the last time he’s taken family photos on Halloween. Probably back when Liam was a baby. 

That one year Ian and Lip dressed up like Wanye and Garth from Wayne’s World. Fiona laughed her ass off when they came downstairs. 

It’s strange, their first Halloween without Fiona manning the house, eating twice as much candy as she handed out. 

“I gotta grab my phone.” Liam suddenly says, booking it back up the stairs. 

“Kids.” Mickey grumbles, shaking his head. 

“You’re such an old man.” Sandy chuckles, ruffling his hair. Mickey bats her away but surprisingly doesn’t curse her out. 

“Do you need us to drop you off at the bar?” Mickey asks, scouring the kitchen for the kids’ candy buckets. He spies them on top of the fridge, makes his way over to grab them. 

“Nah.” Debbie shakes her head, pulling out her phone. “A friend of ours is going to pick us up, she’s working tonight too.” 

“Okay then.” Ian replies. “Liam! Come on. We’re leaving in five minutes.” he watches Mickey grab the plastic buckets from the top of the fridge. They used to belong to Ian and Lip when they were kids. One is a big plastic pumpkin, the other a white plastic ghost that glows in the dark. Seeing them brings back all kinds of memories from his childhood. 

It’s moment like this Ian really misses his brother. He promises himself he’ll call later. Maybe video chat. Lip already sent the family pictures of Fred’s first Halloween. Seeing the baby dressed up as a tiny mad scientist had made Ian’s heart ache. 

He misses them, of course he does. But it also set a little fire of longing inside him. One he never anticipated. He huffs out a small breath, banishing the thought. 

He’s got all he ever dreamed of already. He’s lucky as fuck to have it. No need to complicate it with dreams of things he’ll never have. 

He’s got Mickey. It’s enough. More than enough. 

It’s everything. 

*** 

“Um, Liam...are you sure we’re in the right neighborhood?” Ian asks from the passenger seat of Sandy’s car. Mickey had gotten them to the north side in record time, even if Ian had to keep reminding him not to speed with kids in the car. 

They were currently parked in front of the tall gate that separated them from Gable Estates. 

Fucking Gable Estates. The newest, most expensive, most secure gated community in all of Chicago. Mickey gazed wide-eyed through the bars of the tall metal fence. He could see nothing but huge houses and rolling meadows for what looked like miles. 

Jesus, his brothers would have a field day up in this bitch. Mickey was cataloging what he could likely score from each house before he caught up to his thoughts. He shook his head. No. No more stealing. He doesn’t do that shit anymore. 

But still. 

This place was a gold mine. 

“Who do you know that lives here?” Mickey balked, turning in his seat to stare at Liam. 

“Friend from school. I told you that.” Liam replied, like Mickey was an idiot. “We’re in the same english class.” 

“He’s gifted too?” Ian asks, glancing at his brother in the rear-view mirror. 

“Yeah. Way smarter than me.” Liam replied. “But he’s not on scholarship. His parents have no problem paying his tuition.” 

“No shit.” Mickey replied, glaring at the mansions on the other side of the fence again. 

“Just hit the buzzer and tell Dan we’re here for the Madison residence.” Liam said. “I don’t want to keep them waiting, it’s rude.” 

“Dan?” Mickey replied, rolling down his window so he could reach the keypad posted by the front of the gate. 

“The security guard that is posted at the gate.” Liam mumbled, eyes trained on his phone. 

Liam sounded almost nervous, which Mickey didn’t understand. Liam spent more time around these rich bitch types than his own family these days. 

He knew the kid had gotten into another prestigious private school after Frank had fucked him over at the last one. The new charter school on the south side had needed a token black kid. Frank had predictably ruined that for Liam. 

But Liam had surprised everyone by applying to and being accepted to another, better private school on the north side. On merit alone this time. Liam was some kinda gifted, apparently. Tested off the charts for a fifth grader. Debbie had even said something about him skipping the sixth grade. 

Liam was also the oldest ten-year-old Mickey has ever met. He was like an old man. Responsible, sarcastic, reliable. Mickey knows what it is like to grow up too fast. Liam didn’t do it like the rest of them had. Instead of acting out and doing crazy, dangerous shit, he just acted like a middle-aged man. 

Honestly, Liam was kind of a mystery to Mickey. Mickey had always thought Liam would turn out a little slow. Or maybe a behavioral case. After Fiona’s cocaine overdose incident, there had been talk of Liam being legit disabled. But looks like the kid proved them all wrong. 

No one had buzzed them in yet. Mickey huffed impatiently, slamming his finger down on the button again. “Hello?” 

“Is your friend in your grade?” Ian asked, turning to face his brother. Honestly, this is the first Ian’s hearing of this mysterious rich friend. Liam’s a bit of a loner, so it’s nice that he’s met someone he likes. 

It’s just a bit weird that Ian’s never heard about this kid before. 

“He’s in the fourth grade.” Liam replies, still not looking up from his phone. “But he’s only seven.” 

Franny wiggles in her seat, getting fussy. “Uncle Ian. Candy.” she whined. 

“I know, sweetie.” Ian gave her a warm smile before turning back to Liam. “Liam, isn’t seven a little young for a friend of yours?” 

Ian’s a little worried about Liam all of the sudden. First, he has no friends, now he’s got one, but the kid’s almost a kindergartener. Ian knows Liam’s very smart, but now he’s wondering if he’s somehow emotionally stunted. 

“Ian. My friend....is way smarter than me. Like, he’s been teaching me russian in our spare time. Don’t worry about us not matching up intellectually.” 

Liam sounds almost insulted. 

Ian feels suitably cowed. 

“Okay, buddy.” Ian replies, shooting his husband a look. Mickey just shrugs. “That’s great.” 

Just then the buzzer goes off and Mickey scoffs. “About damn time.” 

“Can I help you?” a disembodied voice calls through the speaker.

“Uh, hi. We’re here to visit the, um, Madison residence.... Trick or treating. Liam Gallagher?” Mickey calls back, shrugging.

“Let me check my list.” the voice replies. 

They wait for a moment, Franny growing more restless as the seconds tick by. They’ve got the god damn Frozen soundtrack playing to keep her occupied, but she lost interest a while ago. Now she’s entertaining herself kicking the back of Ian’s seat. 

Just as Ian’s about to turn around and tell her to quit it, the intercom crackles to life and Dan tells them to head on up. The gate swings open silently and Mickey pilots them through the gate and onto a long road that winds along the small hill. Huge houses are dotted along both sides of the street. 

“It’s the one all the way at the end on the left.” Liam calls from the back seat, finally tucking his phone into a pocket of his scarecrow costume pants. (who knew those things had pockets?) 

Mickey nods, turning left and heading up the hill. 

Ian’s eyes are glued out the window. The higher they climb, the more ridiculous the houses get. They go from huge to massive to mammoth. Ian’s mouth is wide open, gaping like an idiot at the disgusting display of wealth. 

But none of those houses have anything on the last house on the left. 

“Just park by the other cars.” Liam instructed, pointing to the right, where a massive detached three-car garage stood. 

“The other cars.” Mickey mumbled, shooting Ian a look. Liam’s friend was fucking loaded. 

In front of the garage sat three cars. A brand new Dodge Ram Laramie Longhorn. Mickey’s only ever seen them in car magazines. Next to it was a 2020 Lexus LS, and beyond that...what looked like a black Porche 911 from the sixties. 

What the fuck did these people do for work? 

“Whoa.” Ian muttered, mirroring Mickey’s thoughts. 

Mickey parked on the far side, a ways away from the 911. God-for-fucking-bid they hit that thing, they’d never be able to pay the damages. 

Once the car was parked, Liam was up and out before anyone else even got their seatbelts off. He started making his way toward the front of the house before he thought better of it and stopped to wait. 

“C’mon sweet girl.” Ian said, adjusting his stupid costume before opening the back door and helping Franny out of her booster seat. She squealed happily as Ian got her out and helped her stand on the cobblestone driveway. 

“So pretty.” Franny exclaimed, pointing at the huge house in front of them. 

Mickey scoffed before he could help himself, stuffing the keys to the Taurus into the pocket of his long coat. He felt ridiculous in the costume, now that they were outside the safety of their home. He’s sure these rich assholes are gonna think they’re all idiots. 

“It sure is, honey.” Ian replied, taking Franny’s hand while Mickey grabbed the candy buckets from the trunk. He handed one to Liam, and the other to Ian. “Very pretty.” 

“I bet a princess lives here.” Franny continued. 

“You’re thinking of a tax dodger, kiddo.” Mickey replied, earning himself a hard slap across the chest from his husband. Mickey shot him a glare, rubbing his sore sternum. 

“Uncle Ian, what’s a tax dodger?” 

“Nothing, sweetie, Uncle Mickey’s just being silly.” Ian replied, still glaring at his husband as they made their way up to the front door. 

“Um, guys.” Liam said suddenly, stopping them just before the front steps. “Please, be nice. I don’t want to make a scene and embarrass my friend.” 

“Liam, come on.” Ian said, turning toward his brother. “We won’t do that. Are you...ashamed of us?” 

The question burned like acid in Ian’s chest. He knows Liam has a whole new life with the private school and all that goes along with it, but the idea that he’d be ashamed of his family is too much to bear. 

“No!” Liam exclaimed. He grabbed Ian’s free arm, smiling at him. “Never ashamed. Promise. It’s just, my friend...” 

“It’s fine, kid.” Mickey interjected. Whatever is eating Liam, it’s probably not that big a deal. Kids his age make mountains out of mole hills all the time. “We’ll be on our best behavior, okay?” 

Liam sighed, nodding. “Okay. Thanks. I...uh....thanks.” 

Ian and Mickey exchanged a glance over Franny’s head. 

Something’s up. 

Liam nodded to himself once before turning to the massive oak door and ringing the bell. 

The four of them stood on the stoop for a few minutes until the door swung open. There stood a small boy, thin and short. He had striking bluish-green eyes and a shock of dark hair sprouting out from under the lip of his silver metal hat. It was clear he was younger than Liam by a few years, but he smiled confidently. His costume was clearly expensive. The body of the Tin Man suit seemed to be made of actual metal. The joints scraping and whining as he moved. His face wasn’t painted silver, but he wore silver metalized gloves and shiny silver boots. 

He looked like a miniature replica from the movie. Mickey had to admit, it was impressive. 

“Liam, you came!” the boy crowed, lurching forward and pulling Liam into a tight hug, his costume screeching with the sudden movement. Liam was a few inches taller than him, having to bend over to clutch the smaller boy to his chest. 

“Promised I would.” Liam replied, voice soft. 

Ian watched the exchange with wide eyes. Clearly, Liam was closer to this kid than he thought. 

Why is this the first Ian is hearing of this? He needs to pay better attention at home. 

“And you brought them.” the boy continues, finally letting go of Liam so he can really look at the rest of them. His eyes glide over Franny quickly, then to Ian, who he scrutinizes for a bit longer. Ian tries not to fidget. He's just a kid, no reason to feel like he’s trying to pass some kind of inspection. 

But when the kid’s eyes land on Mickey, things get weird. Ian grabs Mickey’s wrist as the kid just stares at him. His bright blue eyes are wide, his teeth are biting so deeply into his lower lip, the flesh is white. His little tin hands are shaking. 

“Hi.” Ian says. He kneels down in front of Liam’s friend, eager to ease his worries. “I’m Ian, Liam and Franny’s uncle, and this is my husband....” 

“Mickey.” the kid replies, voice thick. 

Ian startles, his eyes flicking between this kid and his husband. How much has Liam told him about his family? 

“Yeah.” Mickey replies slowly. “That’s me.” 

“Hi.” the kid says, taking a single step forward. “It’s really nice to meet you. My name’s Yevgeny.” 

Ian stands quickly. Stumbling backwards, he pulls Mickey to his chest. His husband is dead silent and stock still. 

No way. 

No fucking way. 

“Ah. Orange boy. Piece of shit ex.” a dark, menacing voice calls from the hallway. “Nice of you to be on time.”


	2. Beneath the mask...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is blindsided to see his son staring back at him. Will he be able to keep it together long enough to take the kids trick or treating?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my deepest apologies for the delay. if you're an american, i don't have to tell you how stressful these past few weeks have been. but i'm trying to get past my existential dread and get back on the horse. so here you go.

Mickey felt his blood turn to ice water as his bitch of an ex-wife strolled into the room. Svetlana looked domineering as ever, even in the ridiculous Dorothy Gale costume she was wearing. Svetlana smirked at Mickey and Ian, raising a sharp eyebrow as they surveyed each other’s costumes. 

Svetlana was wearing the quintessential Dorothy costume from Wizard of Oz. The short gingham dress with the white capped sleeves. The white ankle socks and the jewel encrusted red ruby slippers. Her chestnut hair was draped over her shoulders in two braids, blue ribbons bowed around the ends. She even held the wicker picnic basket, inside it an honest to god yorkshire terrier. The dog was growling lowly, teeth bared. But honestly, the thing was the size of a house cat. Mickey was in no way intimidated. 

Behind Svetlana was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Mickey held in a snort as he eyed the man’s costume. Because standing there awkwardly beside Svetlana, was a grown ass man in what amounted to a yellow fuzzy onesie. Mickey guessed he was supposed to be the cowardly lion, what with the tawny fur around his wrists and ankles, the wild mane of fur lining the hood of his top. He even had a medal affixed to his chest. Red, white and blue ribbon, with the word COURAGE emblazoned across the brass cross. The man grinned sheepishly. He was fidgety, scratching at the dark hair that was poking out from around the hood of his costume, constantly fixing the black square glasses that sat atop his nose, pale gray eyes boring into Mickey’s from beyond the lenses. 

Mickey stared and stared. At Yevgeny. At Svetlana. At the stranger in the honestly embarrassing lion costume. Before turning on his husband with a murderous glare. 

“What the hell is this shit?” he growled. 

Ian gaped at him, throwing his hands up in the air. It must have looked comical from the outside. Captain Hook descending on Peter Pan with murder in his eyes. 

Ian did not find it amusing at all. 

“Why are you asking me?” Ian squeaked, backing up a step. “You think I had anything to with this?” Ian tried to keep his voice low, though it was stupid to think everyone in the room couldn’t hear them perfectly clearly. “I had no idea.” Ian motioned toward Svetlana with his head. “Why would I do that? She hates me too.” 

Svetlana chuckled. Ian bristled, but kept his eyes on his husband. “I promise, I wouldn’t blindside you like this. You know that.” 

Franny whined quietly, easily picking up on the tension in the room. Ian turned and scooped her up. She was a little big to carry on his hip, but Ian was a big guy himself, and she clearly needed the comfort. “Shh, it’s fine.” he murmured, petting her head. 

“I’m sorry.” Liam spoke suddenly. He was standing by Yevgeny with a guilty look on his face. “It was me. I asked Debbie and Sandy to make you guys bring us up here. It was all me.” 

Mickey turned toward Liam, eyebrows high on his forehead. “You what now?” 

Ian put Franny down, stepping up to his brother. “Liam...what...why?” 

Svetlana was standing off to the side with the cowardly lion, grinning like she won some sort of prize. Ian tried his best to ignore her while he got to the bottom of this shit. 

“Liam.” Yevgeny stepped up, laying one of his small hands on his friend’s shoulder. “Please, don’t take the blame for me.” 

Ian gaped at the kid. For such a young child, he spoke very well. Ian was also confused by what he was saying. 

Yevgeny stepped closer to Ian and Mickey. He glanced back at his mother before turning back. “I asked Liam to bring you here. Mama had no idea, Ari didn’t know either.” 

“Ari?” Mickey interjected, frowning. 

The cowardly lion raised his hand. 

“Step-father.” Yevgeny explained. 

Mickey nodded, suddenly struck by the fact that he knew nothing at all about his son. Had no idea he lived so close. Had no idea he went to school with Liam. Had no idea Svetlana remarried...again? What happened to the geriatric fucker with all the money? 

Mickey was painfully out of the loop, and it stung. 

“Zhenya, ты солгал своей матери. почему это?” Svetlana suddenly spoke. Her clipped russian bringing back a hoard of negative memories spiraling through Mickey's brain. He cringed, shaking his head.

“я только хочу знать его.” Yevgeny replied, voice soft. 

“English, please.” Mickey muttered, glancing between the two. 

Svetlana sighed, but nodded. “I only ask him why he lies to his mother.” 

Yevgeny nodded sadly. “I told her I only want to know you.” 

Well fuck, what was Mickey supposed to do with that? The kid seemed so earnest. And honestly, where the hell did that come from? It sure as hell didn’t come from Mickey or Svetlana. 

“Ari, will you take the children outside, please.” Svetlana turned to her (apparently new?) husband. “I wish to speak with Ian and Mickey. We will be ready to trick or treat in a moment.” 

“Of course.” Ari replied, taking Yevgeny by the shoulder. It was clear to Ian that Liam was comfortable here, since he didn’t shrink away when Ari moved close. They all stepped out onto the front porch, chatting away about some book they were reading for school. 

Franny was another story. She clung to Ian like a limpet, scowling at the stranger. 

“You can stay.” Ian promised her. He pulled out his phone and pulled up Crossy Road, handing the phone over. He pointed to a chair in the living room. “Go sit and play. As soon as we’re done, all the candy. Promise.” 

Franny beamed at him, grabbing his phone and skipping toward the living room. 

Once the three of them were alone, Svetlana turned to them, that unreadable expression she’s so fond of on her face. “It was not my decision to bring you here tonight. But it was my decision to lie to you about it.” 

“What the fuck.” Mickey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at his ex-wife. “Why?” 

“Because I was certain you would not come if you knew the truth.” Svetlana replied simply. It was really hard having this Serious Discussion with her when they were all in full costume. She even had her stupid dog still swinging in the basket on her arm. 

“And what exactly is the truth?” Ian asks gently. He steps right next to Mickey, intertwining their hands. Ian’s fingers find Mickey’s wedding ring, absently playing with it while he tries to soothe Mickey’s obvious tension. 

Svetlana sighs, suddenly sounding very tired. “The truth is that your son wishes to know you. He asks after you all the time. Has a picture of you and Orange Boy...” 

“Ian.” Mickey interjects harshly. “His name is Ian.” 

Svetlana sighs again. “Ian.” she repeats, fake smile plastered on her lips. “He has picture of you and Ian taped to his bedroom mirror. The only photo he has. Zhenya was only days old.” 

“But why does he...what could he possibly...wants to know me?” Mickey asks, utterly confused. He glances around this literal mansion, taking in all the modern conveniences and tech. Hell, he can see an in-ground pool and jacuzzi off the massive deck through the sliding glass doors at the back of the room. 

And that’s not taking into account the view out the front window. 

Mickey can clearly see Yevgeny and Liam talking with Ari. The three of them are laughing and smiling like the best of friends. Mickey can’t help but wonder if both boys found a father figure in this man, when their own fathers were so sorely lacking. 

The thought hurts Mickey in a way he’s all too familiar with. He knows he’s never been a real father to Yevgeny. Hell, he even considered that he might not be Yevgeny's father for a while there. But looking at him now, it’s clear he’s a Milkovich. (a dark, cruel voice in his head whispers ‘He could be Terry’s’ -- but Mickey pushes that thought away. It’s an old excuse, everyone knows Terry got his shit snipped after Mandy was born. Said both Mickey and Mandy were mistakes he didn’t want to repeat. 

So the boy is clearly Mickey’s. 

But that doesn't change the fact that Mickey is....just Mickey. 

"I have nothing to offer him." Mickey says quietly. Ian huffs indignantly next to him, but Mickey ignores him. 

“I tell him this.” Svetlana says tiredly. “I tell him you no good. Criminal. Unreliable. Cruel.” 

Mickey bristles. He can feel Ian tensing up next to him. 

“Svetlana...” Ian starts, voice hard, but she just waves him off. 

“I tell him this, yet he still wishes to meet you. Our boy is smart. Very smart. Smarter than the three of us combined. Only seven years old, already in fourth grade. He plays piano and violin. Reads at high school level. I taught him Russian, he is fluent now.” 

“No wonder he and Liam get along so well.” Ian mumbles, awed. 

“Yeah, they’re geniuses in the midst of a bunch of morons.” Mickey replies, clearly overwhelmed. How? How is his son some kind of prodigy? It makes no sense. No one in his family is smart. 

“Mick,” Ian sighs, voice soft. “You’re smart.” 

Fuck, Mickey said that shit out loud? 

“Not the point.” Svetlana cut in. “The point is this: our son is very smart. Also very independent. Stubborn. No one can persuade him once he’s made up his mind. And he’s decided you are worth his time. Liam speaks very highly of the both of you.” 

Mickey scoffs, can’t help it. Ian pinches him in the ribs to shut him up. 

“You laugh, but it is true.” Svetlana says, sounding like she very much disagrees. “Liam tells my son how you both turned your lives around. How you are working and happy and very in love. How you take such good care of the family now that Lip and Fiona are gone. How he looks up to you. Yevgeny wants that.” she gives them both a look Mickey can’t decipher. “I tried to convince him it’s a waste of time. Are you going to prove me wrong?” 

Mickey glares at his ex-wife. There is no love lost between them. They were never friends or allies. More like trauma-bonded. But no matter what, she’s the mother of his son. And she’s telling him the kid wants to get to know him. 

What can Mickey say to that? 

“Are we going trick or treating or what?” is what comes out of his mouth. “Don’t want the kids missing out on all the good candy.” 

Svetlana smirks, but says nothing as she leads them out of the house. Franny scurries up when she hears them moving, planting herself between Ian and Mickey. Ian takes her hand and Mickey leads them outside. 

To whatever’s waiting for them. 

*** 

Trick or treating in this gated neighborhood is unlike anything Ian’s ever experienced. Every single house has it’s lights on. Most of the occupants are dressed in elaborate costumes. Some houses are full of people, Halloween parties in full swing. Others have big buckets of candy on the porch with a ‘Take One’ sign affixed to it. But every single house is giving out treats, not one of the residents has skipped out. 

Ian is walking with Franny and Liam. Svetlana and Ari are walking behind them. Ian can hear the dog in Svet’s basket barking. Can hear Svetlana cooing ‘shh, Sacha.’ The dog growls. Svetlana chuckles. 

Ian’s eyes are fixed a few feet in front of him. Mickey and Yevgeny, walking side-by-side, talking quietly. There is a bit of distance between the last house and the next, so Ian just walks with his brother and his niece, giving his husband a modicum of privacy in which to speak with his son. 

Hell, his son. Ian really had no idea if they’d ever see Yev again. After Ian had heard about Svetlana marrying an old rich fucker, he figured she’s move somewhere more glamorous. 

But if her husband was an octogenarian, who is this new guy? 

Ian chuckles to himself. Leave it to Svetlana to work an angle like this. Ian idly wonders if she loves this Ari guy, before deciding it’s none of his business. He’s here tonight to bring his family trick or treating. He’s here to support his husband through this unexpected event. Ian’s not sure how Mickey will react, once they are alone again. But right now, he seems to be holding his own. 

His eyes go back to Mickey and Yevgeny, walking together. Ian smiles. 

Maybe it will all be okay, after all. 

“So, your mom says you’re pretty smart.” Mickey says, keeping his eyes forward as they wander down the street between houses. There are other kids all over the place, the entire gated community running around, screaming and laughing. You don’t really see this kind of thing on the south side. Sure, kids trick or treat, but it’s always interspersed with pranks and petty crimes. Mickey doesn’t expect any of these kids to egg a house or set anything on fire. It’s all very low key. Not at all like Halloween in the neighborhood. 

Mickey wonders if he should feel more out of place here, among the rich and snobby. But he finds that being in this stupid costume really helps. He looks around and sees Scooby Do, Woody from Toy Story, Batman and Captain America. Not just kids, either. All the parents are dressed up too. So, funnily enough, Mickey walking around dressed as Captain Hook has him blending in seamlessly. 

He glances down at his son, once he realizes he hasn’t answered. 

Yevgeny is fiddling with his costume, rubbing his thumb over some of the metal plating. Mickey takes a chance, bumping his hip against Yevgeny’s body. The kid is so small, Mickey worries for a second he’s gonna knock him over. But the kid just bumps him back, turning his head to glare up at Mickey. 

“You gonna talk back? Or you want me to leave you alone?” 

Yevgeny kicks a lose rock up the street before glancing back at his father. “Um, well... I am smart. But that’s usually all anyone ever wants to talk about, y’know?” 

Mickey nods, even though he doesn’t really get it. “I guess.” 

Yevgeny chuckles sadly, and it sounds so much like Mickey that a shiver goes down Mickey’s spine. “I’m just a kid, right? But everyone’s always asking me what I want to study in college. They’re telling me I could graduate high school before I turn thirteen.” 

“Sounds like a lot.” Mickey muses. He can’t imagine that kind of pressure. How is he supposed to make friends? He's gonna be that weird tiny kid you see on the news, graduating from high school before he hits puberty. 

Yevgeny nods, swinging his candy bag at his side. They come up to the next house and the conversation stalls. Mickey watches as Ian and the kids finally catch up. Mickey hangs back with his husband while the kids run up to the door and ring the bell. Franny squeals with glee when a massive lollypop is dropped into her bucket. 

The kids come trampling back to the sidewalk, Liam glancing at Ian before grabbing Franny’s hand and ambling toward the next house. It’s a ways away, so Ian starts off right after them. He doesn’t say anything when he notices Mickey and Yevgeny hanging back, putting distance between themselves and the group. Ian’s also noticed that Svetlana and her husband are keeping their distance too, so Ian takes the hint. 

This night is about Mickey and Yevgeny. If all goes well, Ian will have his chance to build a relationship with the kid. He wants that, of course he does, but he’s not going to do that Gallagher shit; get all excited and over-invested. He's not going to step on Mickey’s toes or try to call the shots. He has to stand back and let his husband do this himself. 

Of course, Ian will be right there to support him, the whole way, but he’s not going to micromanage this. 

He keeps telling himself that as he slowly makes his way up the street, next to Liam and Franny, Mickey and Yevgeny trailing behind them all. 

He can hear Mickey and Yevgeny talking again, and he smiles. He doesn’t mind walking by himself for a little while if it means he can witness this moment between Mickey and his son. 

“You play guitar?!?” Yevgeny exclaimed, staring up at Mickey in awe. Mickey chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. 

“A bit, yeah.” Mickey admitted. “It’s been a while, but it’s kinda like riding a bike. But it’s just a thing I like to do for fun, y’know?” 

“Not really.” Yevgeny admits, shrugging. “I don’t ever really take breaks from my studies or my extras.” 

“Extras?” Mickey repeated, confused. 

“You know.” Yevgeny sighed. “Extracurriculars. I play the violin, piano, like I told you. I’m almost fluent in Russian. So now Mama wants me to learn German. I also play soccer, I started Ju Jitzu last summer. I’m on the swim team.” 

Mickey hummed, trying to buy some time. He honestly didn’t know what to say. That sounded like way too many activities for a kid Yevgeny’s age, no matter how smart some tests say he is. “And...you like all that stuff?” 

Yevgeny shrugged again. Mickey noticed he was dragging his feet a little, so he slowed down too. Mickey glanced up the street toward Ian and the rest of them. They were all keeping pace with Mickey and Yevgeny, clearly trying to give them space. 

Mickey appreciated it. 

“C’mon, kid. You must like some of that stuff, to spend so much time doing it...” Mickey said, when it was clear Yevgeny wasn’t going to answer him. 

“Mama says I must be well-rounded. For college.” 

Mickey scoffed, shaking his head. “Kid. That’s like...what? Eleven years from now? Why the he...heck are you stressing it?” 

“Mama says it’s never too early. And it will defiantly be sooner than eleven years.” 

Mickey sighed. This poor kid had no idea what he wanted. God damn seven years old, talking like a stressed-out high school junior. Mickey can’t relate, of course. He was never destined for college. He especially wasn't destined for college before his fourteenth birthday. Jesus. 

But he does know what it feels like to have his childhood stolen by a parent that thought their kid’s life was an extension of their own. Mickey is sure Svetlana is doing what she thinks is best for Yev, but he can’t help but think the kid should have some say. 

“But, like, what do you do for fun?” Mickey tries. He’s not sure the kid is getting what he’s trying to say. “Something that’s not for your mom, or for school, or for flippin’ college. Something just for you.” 

Yevgeny glanced up at him. In the dim light of the streetlamps, Mickey could see the shock on his tiny face. “Um, I don’t know.” 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that.” Mickey says, lips moving without thought. He cringed, looking over at his son. But he was not met with angry derision, like he anticipated. Yevgeny’s face was all lit up, smile wide on his lips. 

Mickey’s heart skipped. He’d done that. Brought that smile to his kid’s face. A rush of warmth radiated out of his chest, and he wondered for a moment if it was physically possible to feel love blooming. 

Ugh. Soft. He’s getting so fucking soft. 

“Yeah?” he giggled, hopping up and down. His little metal legs squeaking adorably. “You mean that?” 

“Well, sure kid.” Mickey smiled down at his son. He flicked his little metal cap, earning himself another giggle just as they came up to the next house. “We can do whatever you want.” 

Yevgeny squealed with delight, just as they caught up with Liam and Franny for the next house. The scampered up the stairs of the next house. 

Ian came up behind Mickey, wrapping his arms around his waist. He laid his chin on Mickey’s shoulder so they could both watch the kids. 

“Everything okay?” Ian asked, grinning at the sight of Franny executing a perfect curtsey for the lady handing her a candy bar. 

“You know what?” Mickey laughed, watching his kid and Liam jostling for a massive Snickers bar. “I think so. I think everything is pretty fucking great, actually.” 

Ian smiled, burying his face in Mickey’s neck. 

They may have been tricked into coming here tonight, but watching this evening unfold around him, he can’t even be mad. 

*** 

They made it through the massive gated community in a little over an hour. Every single house had something for the kids. Mickey watched as they were gifted with supersized candy bars, lollypops, sugary confections and little knickknacks. Mickey catches sight of some little actions figures and those tiny dolls Franny has been going crazy over for months. Gift cards and even some actual cash (what the fuck!) 

Trick or treating on the north side is completely fucking bonkers. 

Mickey is smiling like a lunatic as they make their way back to Svetlana and Ari’s house. The kids are running up ahead, chatting animatedly about their massive candy haul. (Mickey is inclined to believe they’ve had too much candy already.) 

Ian and Ari are walking in the middle, discussing the tragic ending of the Sox last season. 

That leaves Svetlana and Mickey once again. 

Mickey can’t remember ever spending this much time with Svetlana. 

“So, you and Orange boy happily married?” Svetlana asks out of nowhere. 

Mickey chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, Svet. We’re really fucking happy.” 

“Is good.” his ex-wife replies. “I have also found happiness.” she pets Sasha’s little head. The dog growls from its stupid little basket, but doesn’t move out of the touch. “Ari is good to me. Makes me very happy.” 

“You wanna explain that to me?” Mickey asked, unsure if he really wanted the answer. 

“Eh.” Svetlana shrugs. “I married old man. You know this.” 

“Yeah, I heard about it. Crazy rich, ridiculously old. I heard you tricked him, is that true?” 

“Maybe yes, maybe no. Didn’t matter. He was happy with young bride, no matter who.” 

Mickey laughs, because that sounds just like something a rich old white asshole would do. Just marry some nameless piece of ass. 

“So how’d you go from the crypt keeper to that sexy fucker over there?” Mickey asked, waving a hand in Ari’s direction. Mickey is a happily married man, but he’s not blind. He can admit that Svet’s new man is hot as fuck. 

He’s taller than even Ian, and Mickey can clearly see thick thighs bulging out of that fur monstrosity he’s wearing. Add to all that his jet-black hair and gray eyes... (It’s not weird. His features are nothing like Mickey’s. They're not. It’s a coincidence. Svetlana did not do this on purpose. Ew.) 

So yeah, he’s hot. But that still does not explain much. 

“If you must know. My first husband died.” 

“I know that. The creepy russian. The dude you named Yev after. You threw him in the river. Don't think I didn’t hear about that.” 

Svetlana huffed. “That is not who I am talking about.” 

“So, not the mobbed up russian, and not me. The old guy is who you’re talking about? That makes him your third husband.” Mickey snarked, just to be a dick. 

“Fine.” Svetlana snapped. “Third husband died. It was not long after wedding. Months.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mickey laughed. He watched as Ian and Liam swung Franny in the air between their clasped hands, her skirts swinging wildly in the breeze. He smiled before turning back to his ex-wife. “Please tell me you didn’t kill him.” 

“Mikhailio, you give me too much credit.” Svetlana replied, shooting him a smirk. “Poor old Rupert died of a stroke. He had a long history of bad health. But it is funny that you mention it, because that is how I met Ari.” 

Mickey laughed. Of course. “Oh really? Who is he then? The coroner? The attorney? No, let me guess, the funeral director. Damn, Svet. Classy.” 

“You are not nearly as funny as you think you are.” Svetlana replied coolly. “Ari is son.” 

They were back at the house. The kids all scrambled inside, full on screaming now. 

The sugar high has commenced. 

(whatever happened to checking Halloween candy for poison and razor blades?) 

Ian and Ari were waiting on the porch, still chatting amiably about something or other. Mickey opened his mouth to call out to his husband when Svetlana’s words finally sank into his thick skull. 

He rounded on his ex-wife, mouth open in shock. 

“His SON?” Mickey balked. “Ari is your dead husband’s son? Svetlana, you slut.” 

Sveltana just smirked at him. “I did nothing wrong. Ari loves me. I love him. Rupert was good man, but now he’s gone. I wish to live my life as I see fit. Love how I see fit. You understand, no?” 

Mickey smiled, genuine this time. Yeah, he got that. It’s obviously not how a normal person would go about it, but when has Mickey known anyone normal? 

Ian and Mickey’s fairy tale love affair is not what anyone would call typical. 

So who is he to judge? 

“Not my call, Svet. You do you, I guess.” Mickey shrugged. Svetlana smiled, nodding. 

“Good, is good.” Svetlana sighed, actually looking a bit relieved. “Now, you say you want to know Zheyna, let’s talk about that.” 

Mickey huffed, nodding. They made their way back inside the house. He’d much rather discuss his son than Svetlana’s fucked up romantic life. 

*** 

“Please stay.” Yevgeny whined, crossing his arms over his chest. This is the first time all night he’s showing his age. Acting like an actual seven-year-old instead of a middle-aged man. He was grumpy and pouty. 

Mickey won’t ever admit this to a soul, but it’s adorable. 

“We can’t, buddy.” Ian says, for the third time. Liam has his arm wrapped around Yevgeny’s shoulder, since it looks like the poor kid’s about to start crying. 

Svetlana and Ari are in the kitchen, making some weird sleepy-time tea Yevgeny has each night before bed. 

“But you just got here.” Yevgeny replies sullenly. 

Mickey is holding a dozing Franny. He nudges Ian with his elbow, passing over the sleepy toddler. Ian bundles her into his arms, smiling down at her. 

Once Mickey has his arms free, he kneels down in front of his son. He smiles at Yevgeny, laying a tattooed hand on his bony little shoulder. 

“Kiddo, we’ve been here for four hours.” Mickey says, trying to be diplomatic. “We watched two, count ‘em, two, Halloween cartoons. We had hot cocoa. We even played Clue. It was a big night for me and Ian. We’re old men, we got bedtimes and sh...stuff. Y’know?” 

“I have a bedtime too.” Yevgeny sighed. “I hate it.” 

“Franny and Liam have to go to bed too, Yev.” Ian said, still cradling his niece in his arms. “We gotta get ‘em home.” 

As if on cue, Liam yawned. 

“We can hang out this weekend, if you want, Yev.” Liam offered with a smile. “I have that new 3-D puzzle, or Debbie got me a chemistry set. We could mess with that?” 

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up. He turned to Ian and Mickey, hopeful. “Are you guys gonna be there?” 

Mickey smiled. How is this his kid? So sweet and innocent. Super genius science nerd. Fucking violinist. 

And he wants to hang out with Mickey? 

“Yeah, kid, we’ll be around.” 

“Zhenya, are you making plans without asking your Mama.” Svetlana asks, handing her son a mug of hot tea. Yevgeny took it with a shy smile, slurping a mouthful. 

“No, Mama. I was just talking. I don’t have any extras this weekend, and I just thought...” 

“You thought your Mama could take you to Mickey and Ian’s house? What about our plans?” 

“Mama!” Yevgeny yelped, stomping his foot. “I don’t want to shop for detka! I want to go to Liam’s house. Please.” 

“Who’s Detka?” Mickey asks. He can hear Ian shuffling around behind him. They should probably get going, Franny’s a little kid, but she’s heavy after a while. 

“Not who.” Svetlana says, that enigmatic smile on her face again. She doesn’t answer though. She points at Yevgeny. “I thought we decided not to tell anyone about detka yet, Zhenya.” 

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Yevgeny replied, contrite. Mickey sighs. The kid is clearly tired. They should get going. 

“Detka is baby.” Svetlana says, turning to Mickey and Ian. “I am to have baby again.” 

“Oh my god!” Ian whisper-shouts, face the picture of shock. He looks like he’d be jumping up and down if he wasn’t holding Franny. “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you guys. Do you know what you’re having yet?” 

Mickey knows Ian loves babies. It's a prerequisite of being a Gallagher. But even that doesn’t explain the light in his eyes right now. He’s looking at Svetlana like she just offered him a rainbow unicorn. 

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. 

His husband looks like he’s got fucking baby fever. 

Svetlana smiles. The softest smile Mickey’s ever seen on her face. He can’t recall her looking like that when she was pregnant with Yevgeny or her adoption baby. 

Well, that makes sense. Yevgeny was a complicated situation, to put it mildly. And Adoption Baby was a means to an end. 

This baby is clearly very wanted. 

“Is too early to tell gender.” Svetlana says. “Why we call it detka. Russian for baby.” 

“How far along are you?” Ian asks, taking a step forward. He reaches out like he wants to touch her belly, but thinks better of it. “I can’t even tell yet.” 

“Only two months.” Svetlana replies, grinning down at her stomach. She places a gentle hand against her flat belly. “So small now, my detka.” 

“Mama, please.” Yevgeny interrupts. “I can go with you to shop for detka another time.” he hangs his head. “It will all be about detka soon.” 

Mickey’s heart breaks a little at the downtrodden tone of his son’s voice. Mickey has to wonder if this is why Svetlana had decided now is the time to bring Mickey back into Yevgeny’s life. New baby, less attention for Yev. Less time for Yev. 

It kind of irks him, being used like that by his ex. But, it doesn’t really matter in the end, if it’ll help Yev. 

“Svet, if the kid wants to hang out with us while you shop for little Ditty...” 

“Detka.” Svetlana replies, quirking an eyebrow. 

“That’s what I said.” Mickey shoots back. “If Yev wants to come over and blow shit up with Liam, that’s fine with us, right Ian?” 

“Oh yeah.” Ian replies, smiling. Franny is lightly snoring now, head on Ian’s shoulder. Mickey can see a small puddle of drool forming, and it really shouldn’t be cute to him. 

He’s losing his edge. 

“Okay then.” Mickey says, kneeling down in front of his son. “Do you have Liam’s phone number?” 

When Yevgeny nods, Mickey smiles. “Good. Then just call us tomorrow and we'll make plans for this weekend. We should be home.” he’ll give Yevgeny his and Ian’s phone numbers tomorrow. There’s no way he’s fishing his phone out of these painted-on pants again. 

“Oh, thank you!” Yevgeny crows, throwing himself into Mickey’s arms. Mickey takes a moment to be grateful Yev changed out of his metal costume when he got home. 

Then it dawns on him. 

His son is hugging him. 

Oh shit. Yevgeny is hugging him. 

Mickey grips him as tight as he dares, resting his head against his son’s. His hair smells like honey. 

“Alright, kid. We’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” Mickey says, releasing Yevgeny and stepping back. "Make plans for this weekend." 

“And we’ll make stuff blow up??” Yevgeny grins up at his father. 

“Zheyna.” Svetlana scolds. 

“Awe, c’mon, Svet. He’s a Milkovich, right?” Mickey chuckles. 

*** 

The ride home is quiet. Franny is asleep before Ian can even strap her into her booster seat. Liam is nodding off by the time they get to gate of the community. 

Mickey has the radio playing quietly. That classical music shit that helps Liam sleep. He still gets night terrors, ever since the Fiona-Coke incident. Classical music seems to soothe him, keep his terrors to a minimum. 

So Mickey doesn’t mind letting Chopin get his groove on if it’ll help the kid sleep soundly. 

Oh yeah, Mickey’s for sure gone soft. 

They pull up in front of the house. Ian hitches Franny up on his hip, as Mickey gently shakes Liam awake. He leads the kid up the front stairs, then into the house. Ian is nowhere to be seen and the house is utterly silent. 

They must be the first ones home. 

It’s just after eleven, so Mickey drags Liam up to his bedroom and makes sure the kid changes out of his costume and makes it under the covers before going in search of his husband. 

He finds Ian in Franny’s room, tucking her into bed. She’s still dead to the world, but her Wendy costume is hanging off her closet door, and she seems to be in her Jack Skellington footie pajamas. Ian is just tucking her stuffed rabbit under her arm when Mickey makes it to the doorway. 

Mickey leans up against the doorjamb and crosses his arms over his chest, smiling. That same feeling washes over him. The warm fuzzies he had when Yevgeny smiled at him. 

Mickey holds in a chuckle as Franny grumbles in her sleep, tucking her rabbit in her arms and rolling away from Ian. Ian huffs a near-silent laugh, shaking his head as he stands. Mickey waggles his eyebrows at him, pushing off the door frame and nodding toward their bedroom. Ian nods back, standing up and moving to follow his husband. 

Once they shut the door behind them, they both started stripping out of their elaborate costumes. Tunics and uniform jackets. Mickey’s frilly shirt. All the fake leaves and both their pointy hats. In a matter of minutes, Ian was down to his boxer briefs, and Mickey was tossing his wig aside, standing by the door in nothing but his pleather pants. “C’mon, Red. Gotta brush our teeth.” Mickey says, opening the door again and heading out into the hallway. 

“Yes, mom.” Ian calls back as he follows him down the hall. 

“Fuck off.” Mickey replies, shooting Ian a glare as they enter the bathroom. 

The place is trashed. The remnants of the holiday are strewn everywhere. Make up, open pots of glitter. Fake eyelashes and an uncapped tube of fake blood? The place is a fucking mess, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. 

Mickey lays both sets of stockings over the shower rod. He's gonna have to hand wash them before they send them back to the theater. 

Ian has already grabbed their toothbrushes. 

“None of that all-natural tea tree shit!” Mickey yelps, tearing the tube of toothpaste out of Ian’s grasp. “Sandy’s a moron, that shit don’t work. Use the bleach one.” 

Ian chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the second tube, spreading paste on both brushes. “I love how you can be so damn smart, and still think that baking soda toothpaste has bleach in it.” 

“Fuck off.” Mickey replies through a mouthful of bubbles. 

Ian just rolls his eyes, brushing his teeth without another word. Once they are done, Ian goes back to their room while Mickey starts the arduous task of removing his fucking make up. 

*** 

Ian debates putting pajamas on, but if he knows his husband, clothes will only be getting in the way. So he sits on the bed in his underwear and goes through his nightly routine. He plugs in his phone, washes down his meds with a half-full bottle of water, and turns down the covers. He’s just laid down on his side of the bed when Mickey wanders back into the room. 

“C’mere, and lose those pants.” Ian growls, making grabby hands. 

Mickey chuckles, but ignores his husband, moving over to his side of the bed. He sways his hips as he walks, drawing Ian’s attention to his ass. Those pants, jesus. Lucky for Ian, Mickey had been wearing the long coat while they were out. It was bad enough sporting a half chub all night over his open shirt and long, pale neck. Never mind that leather-clad ass being on display all night. 

“Didja take your meds?” Mickey asks as he plugs in his own phone. He has his back to Ian, so he misses his eyeroll. It used to really irk Ian when Mickey asked that question, but now he sees it for what it is. 

Love and concern. 

“Yeah, Mick. I took ‘em. Now wiggle outta those damn pants and come sit on my lap.” 

“Nah.” Mickey chuckled, still facing away from Ian. “I got other ideas.” 

Ian whined. What? No. “C’mon, baby. I been hard for you all night. Don’t tease.” 

Mickey huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he unzipped the fly of his borrowed pants. “Ain’t teasin’. Actually, I gotta surprise for you.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ian replied, grinning. “Now I’m intrigued.” 

“Oh, just you wait, Gallagher.” Mickey laughed, slowly sliding his pants down. He hinged his body forward slightly, jutting his ass out as he worked the tight pleather down his thighs. 

Ian watched closely, licking his lips. His eyes roamed all over Mickey toned back, his round hips, just waiting for the main event. But when Mickey pulled his pants down over his ass, Ian let out an honest to god whimper. 

“Mick...” Ian choked out, sitting up so fast his head spun. “What...what...” 

“Y’like ‘em? I bought ‘em online.” Mickey smirked, finally kicking his pants away and turning to face his husband. 

Mickey stood at the end of the bed, hip cocked out to the side. His body was gorgeous, but Ian couldn’t focus on that at the moment, too enthralled by his god damn panties. 

There was no other word for them. 

Mickey was rocking the hell out of a pair of black leather panties. 

They were cut like briefs, with a little metal O-ring hanging from the band of the underwear. 

It was like a million BDSM fantasies Ian didn’t know he had were suddenly swirling around his mind. 

Ian’s eyes were transfixed on the bulge in the front of Mickey’s underwear. The shiny black material could barely contain his husband’s straining cock. 

Ian’s mouth started to water. 

“Come. Here.” 

“Wait.” Mickey smirked. “Haven’t shown you the best part.” with that, he spun around, exposing his backside to Ian once more. Mickey bent at the hips again, almost shoving his ass in Ian’s face. 

Ian groaned. Oh fuck. 

“Mick...are those...” 

“Backless?” Mickey shot back, grinning over his shoulder. “Yep. You like your surprise?” 

Ian moaned, totally heedless of his niece in the next room. Mickey opened his mouth to shush him, but his words were cut off by his indignant yelp as Ian clamped his hands down on Mickey’s hips and dragging him bodily to the bed. 

Mickey huffed as Ian manhandled him onto the mattress. His husband dragged him up until he was perched on the mattress on his hands and knees. Mickey smirked to himself, waving his ass in the air. 

Ian stared at Mickey’s ass. Stared at the heart-shaped gaping hole right down the center of the panties. Ian gripped Mickey’s hips tightly, huffing out a small laugh. “Bend all the way over, Mick.” he growled. “I wanna see.” 

Mickey chuckled, but did as he was told, dropping his chest to the bed. “You’re an animal.” 

Ian hummed, rubbing his thumbs into the dimples above Mickey’s ass. He dug his fingers into the muscle, slowly spreading Mickey open. 

Mickey could feel the cool air of the room over his ass as it was exposed bit by bit. He fought back a shiver as Ian leaned closer, his breath fanning over Mickey’s exposed hole. 

“Oh Mick.” Ian sighed, smiling. “You sneaky bastard. You stretched already.” Ian held Mickey wide open, exposing his slick hole. Ian could see lube glistening along the furl, the skin a little pink and puffy already. 

“Bathroom lube is useful for more than just shower sex." Mickey replied, gasping as one of Ian’s huge hands came down on his ass cheek. The slap was loud, echoing off the walls of their room. "Didn't wanna wait." 

The pain was exquisite, searing Mickey’s skin and leaving a stinging ache in its wake. 

“But you know that’s one of my favorite parts.” Ian shot back, rubbing Mickey’s stinging ass. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He gave into instinct, leaning over and sinking his teeth into one meaty ass cheek through the leather. 

Mickey gasped, pulling away and turning to face his husband. Mickey shook his head, shoving Ian backwards on the bed. He crawled on top of him, bracketing Ian’s hips with his thighs. Mickey smiled down at Ian, slowly rocking his hips. Ian’s cock was thickening up underneath him, making Mickey sigh happily. 

“I know it’s one of your favorites, but I really just wanna get pounded hard and go to sleep.” 

“Long day, huh?” Ian asked, running his hands along Mickey’s ass and thighs. 

“Sure was.” Mickey admitted, pinching his eyes shut for a moment. He shook his head, banishing those thoughts. “But we’ll talk about that shit later. Get your dick in me.” 

They very rarely skip foreplay, but Ian gets where Mickey is coming from. 

He’ll just have to suck Mickey’s dick extra good tomorrow to make up for it. 

Married life has its perks. 

Ian chuckled, curling his fingers in Mickey’s hair and pulling him down into a heated kiss. Mickey clenches his thighs around Ian’s hips holding him in place as he fucks his tongue into Ian’s mouth. Ian groaned, hands sliding down Mickey’s body coming to rest on Mickey’s ass as he kisses back passionately. 

Kissing Mickey will never get old. He fantasized about it for so long, and it’s still one of his favorite things. Mickey bites his bottom lip, forcing a desperate moan from his mouth. Ian’s hips buck up, but Mickey has him pinned so hard they barely move at all. 

Ian is desperate, feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t have Mickey right now. His dick has gone from half hard to fucking steel in a matter of seconds. 

He grabs Mickey’s jaw, wrenching his mouth open so he can shove his tongue inside. Mickey whimpers, but kisses him back desperately. Ian moves him however he wants, Mickey loose and pliant in his hands. He digs a hand into Mickey’s dark hair, yanking his head to the side, exposing his neck so he can get his mouth on that too. He runs his tongue along the tendon there, biting harshly at the muscle of Mickey’s shoulder. 

Mickey yelps, but clamps his mouth shut, not wanting to make too much noise. 

“Wish you could scream.” Ian whispers, his mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses and stinging bites along Mickey’s neck and shoulder. “Love it when you let loose. Moan my name.” 

Mickey whimpers, shivering. 

“But that’s nice too, isn’t it?” Ian breathes, sucking a bruise under Mickey’s collar bone. “Those little noises you just can’t keep in.” 

Mickey’s undulating his hips, pressing his cock against the bulge in Ian’s underwear. It lights a fire inside him. “Ian, now. C’mon. I’m ready for you. All slick and hot inside. Come on!” 

Ian groans, tilting his head back. Mickey curls around him, biting his neck harshly. Ian’s whole body spasms, and Mickey smiles against his skin, soothing the red mark with his tongue. “Please, Ian. I need you.” he whispers, his voice barely a breath. 

“Mick, fuck. Up. Up.” Ian drops his head back on the pillow, pushing at Mickey’s chest. “Get up and turn around. Ass up.” 

Mickey smirks at him, kissing him deeply once more before sitting up and turning around. He gets up on all-fours, facing the foot of the bed. Ian stands on his knees behind him and just looks for a second. 

Mickey looks so fucking sexy like this. Head resting against the mattress, ass high up in the air. His neck and shoulders are all red from Ian’s lips and teeth. His back is already covered in a fine sheen of sweat. 

Ian wants to lick it up. 

“Quit starin’ like a weirdo and get in me.” Mickey huffs, not bothering to look back at Ian. 

Ian huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he strips out of his underwear. “You’re keeping the panties on.” 

“Duh.” Mickey shot back, wiggling his leather-clad ass in Ian’s face. “That was the whole point.” 

Ian chuckled, grabbing the lube and slicking up his erection. He hissed at the contact, a shiver running down his spin as he spread the cool liquid over his painfully hard cock. Dropping the tube onto the bedside table, Ian shuffled up the bed. Wiping his hand on the bedsheets, Ian grabbed Mickey hips once more, spreading him wide open. The split in the panties was pulled to capacity, exposing Mickey to Ian’s hungry eyes. 

Ian sighed, so fucking turned on and in love it was utterly overwhelming. 

“Ian.” Mickey groaned, turning his head to stare at his husband. “Please.” 

Ian nodded, smiling down at Mickey. “Sorry, Mick. You're just so gorgeous like this.” 

Mickey grinned back, turning to bury his face in the covers. He could feel his neck and back growing hot with an embarrassing blush. God, you would think he’d be used to Ian saying all that mushy bullshit, but no. Gets him right in the chest, every damn time. 

Ian smiled. His husband could never take a compliment. But Ian had a way to make him understand. 

He dug his fingers into Mickey’s hip and lined up his cock with Mickey’s wet hole. He rubbed the head along the furled muscle, just to hear his husband gasp desperately. 

But this was not the time for teasing. “You sure you stretched enough?” Ian wondered, rubbing his cockhead around Mickey’s hole in small circles. 

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Gallagher, get...” Mickey’s complaints were cut off when Ian thrusted forward in one smooth motion. Mickey groaned, arching his back under Ian’s hands. 

Ian bit his lip to keep his moans at bay. “Gallagher-Milkovich.” he replied, circling his hips. 

Mickey chuckled, thrusting backwards with what little leverage he had. “I’ll call you whatever you want, just fuck me.” 

So Ian did. 

Gripping Mickey’s hips tightly, Ian started pounding into him. His husband was a writhing mess in less than a minute, whining and bucking his hips as Ian rode him hard. 

Ian was transfixed, watching his cock disappear into Mickey’s ass over and over. The leather panties were spread to capacity, the gaping hole in the middle giving Ian a limited, yet incredibly hot view of Mickey’s ass taking his rough treatment. 

“Oh god.” Mickey whispered hoarsely, his fingers digging into the bedding. “Yeah, fuck.” 

“This what you needed?” Ian asked, his hand coming down hard on Mickey’s ass cheek. The smack had his husband jerking under his hold, but Ian just tightened his grip. He clamped one hand down on Mickey's hip and the other on his shoulder, giving him more leverage to really lay into him. 

They lost themselves to it, like they always have. Ian ran his hands over every inch of exposed skin, leaving handprints and scratch marks in his wake. Mickey took it all gladly, moving with his husband. He arched into every touch, soaking up the pain and pleasure equally. 

They weren’t going to last, not tonight. Not after so much pent up emotion and upheaval. Ian fucked Mickey like a man possessed, plunging his cock into his husband’s willing hole with abandon. Mickey gave as good as he got, thrusting backwards. Taking it all and begging for more. 

“C’mon, Ian. Fuck. Me.” Mickey growled, slamming himself backwards with all his strength. 

Ian huffed out a laugh, pushing his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “You think you can do better? Have at it.” he stilled his hips, buried balls deep in Mickey ass. 

Mickey growled, rolling his eyes as he started fucking back on Ian’s cock. Ian just knelt there, watching. It was always so incredible, watching his cock get swallowed up like that. Mickey’s ass was fucking glorious, even hidden in those naughty briefs. Ian held onto Mickey’s hips and just let him take what he needed. 

And take he did. 

Mickey bucked his hips, grinding on the hard cock inside him. Once he got the angle right, he was pegging his own prostate every other thrust. Sweat was beading on his back, gathering at the nape of his neck, but he didn’t stop. Couldn't stop. Not when he was so fucking close. 

“Yeah, Mick.” Ian sighed, unable to look away. He was close too. The desire to pin Mickey down and fuck him senseless was overwhelming. But it was clear to Ian that Mickey needed this. So he let him take whatever he wanted. “C’mon. You’re so close, huh? Take it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna come.” 

“Yeah.” Mickey whimpered, thrusting back on Ian’s dick as hard and fast as he could. “Me too. Fuck, Ian. Please.” 

Hearing that, Ian knew what Mickey needed. He gripped his hips tightly, holding him in place as he started jackhammering into his husband. He couldn’t even watch anymore, his dick was moving so fast. 

Mickey collapsed down onto his chest, ass high up in the air like an offering. “Ian....please.” he repeated. 

Ian nodded, though Mickey couldn’t see it. He kept up the fierce rhythm of his hips, but curled a hand around the obscene bulge in Mickey’s panties. No time to pull his cock out, Ian just rubbed it in time with his thrusts. 

It seemed to do the trick either way, Mickey was moaning like a whore, heedless of the full house. Ian smirked, pleased with himself as he brought them both closer to orgasm. 

Mickey went first, his whole body tightening up as wave after wave of pleasure shot through him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his fucking toes tingled as he shot off like a rocket in his leather briefs. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” he chanted, as he lost himself to the sensation. 

“Yeah.” Ian growled, redoubling his efforts. “Fuck yeah, Mick. Coming on my cock like that. Look so pretty, hole stretched over my dick, wriggling around like that. God, I love you. Look at you. Lettin’ me fuck you like this, taking it all.” 

“Love it.” Mickey replied hoarsely. “Love your cock. Love you.” 

Ian groaned, hips stilling deep inside Mickey as he shot off his load unexpectedly. He shook with the force of it, emptying himself inside his husband with a contented sigh. 

Ian collapsed, tumbling them both to the mattress. Ian laid his head on Mickey's bare shoulder as they caught their breath. They stayed there for long moments, just breathing together and coming down from their shared high. 

Mickey let them have a minute to recover, but soon he was elbowing Ian in the ribs, desperate to breathe. “Move, dickhead. I’m gonna suffocate.” 

“Drama queen.” Ian shot back, but dutifully pulled out and rolled to the side. He laid there for a moment, just staring at the ceiling. But Mickey had things to do. He stood quickly, shucking off his leather panties and grabbing the wet wipes from the bedside table. “Here, clean yourself up.” he tossed one to Ian before turning to the task of his own sticky, sweaty body. 

They cleaned up in silence. No words needed when you are as close as they are. Once the wet wipes were tossed away, Mickey hit the light and crawled back into bed. Ian had turned down the covers, pulling them up over both their bodies after Mickey was back next to him, where he belonged. 

Mickey curled himself around Ian’s body. Arm over his chest, legs tangled together, he rested his head on Ian’s shoulder. 

It was quiet for a long time. So long that Ian was stumbling toward unconsciousness when Mickey spoke. 

“Do you think I fucked up tonight?” Mickey asked, voice soft. 

“Huh?” Ian replied sleepily, tucking his face against Mickey’s hair, inhaling deeply. God, he’d never get over how incredible Mickey smelled. Like cedarwood and spearmint and sexiness. He's always smelled so fucking good. 

“Do you think I fucked up tonight?” Mickey repeated tiredly. He didn’t really feel like explaining himself, but of course his husband would make him. 

“Fucked up how?” Ian replies, proving Mickey entirely right. 

Mickey sighed, curling closer to his husband. He’s gonna need all the petting and comfort he can get to make it through this conversation. 

Mickey hesitated, tucking his face against Ian’s ribs. “With Yev.” he said, voice so soft, Ian could barely hear him. 

“What?” Ian shot back, barely able to resist the desire to sit up and make Mickey face him. Mickey obviously needed a bit of sheltering to get this out. So Ian held him close, even if he disagreed entirely. 

“He’s so smart, Ian.” Mickey replied. “So smart and so tough and so god damn sweet. And here he is tellin’ me he want to know me. ME. And I said ‘okay’ -- like some kinda asshole. As if I could teach him shit or make him a better person. Fucking fraud. That’s what I am. And that poor kid doesn’t know any better. So I led him on. Fucking asshole. That’s who I am. I fucked up so bad, Ian.” Mickey’s voice broke. “So bad...” 

Ian’s heart was breaking. Splitting wide open, spilling all over the room. He just can’t cope with his husband shit talking himself like that, not over this. 

“Mick....no, no, no....you’re not a bad father. In no sense of the word.” Ian insisted. He clicked on the bedside lamp, wincing at the sudden brightness. He gripped Mickey chin, bringing them eye to eye. “You got issues. We all do. Hell, Svet probably has more than all of us put together. But Yev loves her, cuz she’s his mom, and she cares for him. That’s all you gotta do, Mick. Just care about him. Love him and support him and be there for him when he needs you.” 

“Yeah?” Mickey asks, eyes wet and hopeful. He’s digging his fingers into Ian’s shoulder, holding him close like he’s afraid he’ll run away. “It’s that easy?” 

Ian rolls his eyes, smiling. “It’s not easy at all.” 

When Mickey pouts, Ian sits up, moving them both to the center of the bed with his mass alone. He turns fully toward Mickey, leveled his body over Mickey’s, pressing their skin together. Mickey sighed at the contact. Even sore and sweaty, it felt so good. 

“But it’s not nearly as hard as you’re making it in your head, Mick.” Ian counters. He levels his husband with a critical look. “Listen. I know you’ve got baggage. Baggage that makes you think you can never be enough.” 

Mickey scowls at Ian, but Ian just wraps a hand around the back of Mickey’s head, pressing their foreheads together. “I get it, Mick.” Ian murmurs quietly. “We don’t gotta talk about it. Just know, I know. I’ve been there, you know that. I felt shitty for a long time. Like I wasn’t good enough. Like I was damaged. Like I'd never be right.” 

Mickey huffed indignantly, but Ian just held him close, smiling. “It’s okay, Mick. I know it’s not true. I know I deserve better. Know I deserve you...” 

“I’m no prize, Gallagher.” Mickey snarked back. 

“Shut your mouth, Mick.” Ian spat. Not angry, but unwilling to let the love of his life degrade himself. “Listen, this was my point: you may not see it, but you are fucking amazing. I’ve loved you and respected you for years. You’ve been so good to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I know you’re not perfect, Mick. I know you’ve made mistakes, hurt people. Hell, you’ve hurt me. But all that’s in the past. Cuz you got better! You changed, Mick. You stopped thinking like your dad. You started feeling your fucking feelings. Shit, you gave yourself up to protect me in jail. You married me. Promised to love me and protect me forever. Was any of that a lie?” 

“Fuck no.” Mickey insisted, glaring at Ian. 

“Okay then.” Ian replied, smiling softly at his husband. “So I think it’s fair to say that you are allowed to love your son. You’re not an abusive dick like Terry. You’re not a neglectful moron like Frank. And you’re not a needy psychotic like Monica.” Ian sighed, dragging Mickey’s body as close as possible. Their naked bodies slotted together like they always do, not a smidgen of room between them. “You may not be perfect, Mick, but you’re a good man. And Yev will be lucky to know you. He wants to know you, you won’t deny him that, will you?” 

Mickey shivered, burrowing himself closer to his husband as he considered his question. 

Mickey is an asshole. He’s been one since he was old enough to talk back. Everyone who’s ever known him has said so. Even his husband is keen on reminding him how much of a dick he is. 

But... 

But if he can fix this. If he can corral his dickhead tendencies and teach this kid some shit? Get to know him, share his life with him? Fuck. That’d be the win of all wins. 

A Milkovich parenting a child to success? 

Call the fucking papers. 

“You really think I could do that?” Mickey asks, unable to look at Ian as he speaks. 

“Of course I do, Mick.” Ian responds, running his fingers through Mickey’s messy hair. “He already loves you. You just gotta show him why he’s right to do so.” 

"I dunno." Mickey sighs. "I'm not good with kids." 

Ian barks out a laugh, shocking Mickey. He turns to his husband, eyebrows high on his forehead. "What?" 

"You're kidding me, right?" Ian chuckles. "Mick, you are great with kids. You heard what Liam's been telling Yev. He likes you a lot. Respect you. Hell, I'm sure he loves you. And Franny adores you. You think I don't know you let her dress you up, but Debbie has pictures of you in full make up." 

"That sneaky bitch." Mickey growls, but Ian can tell he's not really angry. 

"My point is this." Ian says, running his fingers along Mickey's jaw. "You're amazing with the kids. They think you're great. Just like I do. Hell, Mick, after tonight, I have to admit, I'm wondering what it would be like for me and you to have a kid of our own." 

"What?" Mickey asks, eyes wide. 

"Yeah." Ian nods, feeling himself blushing. God only knows why, but this turn of the conversation makes him feel incredibly exposed. "I think we'd make great dads, don't you?" 

“You think I'm good enough for all that?” Mickey asks, blinking away tears. He presses his face to Ian’s chest, still unwilling to look at him. 

“Mick, of course I think you’re good enough.” Ian replies honestly. “I’ve thought you were everything since I was a kid. Why do you think I’d marry you if I didn’t believe that?” 

Mickey sighed, but didn’t reply right away. He just let Ian hold him close. The silence of the room enveloped them, letting both men consider their feelings about the evening. A lot had transpired, more than any one person would be able to deal with alone. 

But they weren’t alone. They had each other. And their families. And now, they could have Yev too. 

“Alright, Gallagher.” Mickey relented, smirking. “Turn the damn light back off and we’ll worry about it in the morning.” 

Ian grinned, unable to hold it in. “Okay Mick. In the morning.” he flicked the light back off and they got comfortable again, curling around each other tightly. 

A few minutes of silence passed between the, until Mickey interrupted the stillness again with an inelegant snort. 

“What now?” Ian sighed, smiling into the darkness. 

“Nothing.” Mickey giggled. “Just thinking about how we got duped so bad.” 

“Huh?” Ian replied, confused. “Got duped by who?” 

“Think about it, Ian.” Mickey laughed. “We got set up. By Sandy and Debbie. By Liam and Yev. They all had a hand in setting us up. Ambushed us, really. The whole ‘bring the kids trick or treating’ thing was a fucking set up. Just to get us in the same place as Yev. My kid orchestrated a multi-level scam. And it fucking worked. He fucking tricked us good.” 

Ian chuckled, squeezing Mickey to his chest. “Kid’s smart as fuck, but devious.” 

“Is it weird that I'm kinda proud?” Mickey wonders aloud. 

Ian laughs again. “Regardless, I think we can agree that this night was more treat than trick, huh Mick?” 

Mickey groaned, digging his fingers into Ian’s ribs, causing him to squirm away. “That’s some cheesy shit, even for you.” 

“Eh, you love it.” 

“Don’t know why, but I do.” Mickey replied, kissing Ian’s chest. “Love you, you dumbass.” 

“Love you too, asshole.” 

And there really wasn’t anything more to say after that. Mickey fell into a dreamless sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts of his son and his husband and their suddenly brighter future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun. kinda got away from me, but you know how that goes. i'm pleased with the end result, and that's all you can really hope for.
> 
> note: my russian is all google translate. so take all that with a grain of salt.

**Author's Note:**

> as most of you know, writing has been really hard for me for a while now. with the virus and general life anxiety, it's just not as easy as i'd like to find the motivation or creativity. but i'm still trying. today is also the one-year anniversary of the loss of my pup, lillian. so, i'm not in the best headspace. this story has been a struggle, and it may not be quite as good as i want it to be. so thank you for taking the time to read it. 
> 
> *note* all of the plays listed in the first chapter are real plays.


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